Unconditional
by LiveLaughLove728
Summary: A parent's love goes on forever. Lily and James Potter might not be with Harry anymore, but they are always watching.
1. Privet Drive

**Hello!**

 **While reading the HP books, I found myself wondering, more than once, what Harry's parents thought about everything that went on, from being him sorted, to playing Quiddich, to saving the wizarding world, so I thought I would write it all. This story will consist of James and Lily's POV throughout various scenes from the series. I'm fairly new to writing FF for Harry Potter, but I really like this idea, so here ya go.**

 **Most chapters will be probably be longer than this one, but I really wanted to start with this scene because, obviously, it's a big one, even though not much goes on during it. I'm guessing they will probably average about 1,000 words, but until I actually write them, I can't really be sure. Admittedly, this is kind of a sad scene to start out with, but I want to go through them in order of occurrence and, obviously, Harry's life at the start of the series was not the happiest. I promise there will be happy ones too though!**

 **Anyway, I hope you enjoy this. Please let me know what you think!**

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Lily and James Potter stood side-by-side and watched from beyond in horror as Albus Dumbledore laid their baby boy, as gently as could be, down on the doorstep of Number 4 Privet Drive. To say it had been a traumatic night for the young family would have been an understatement and both were still quite shell-shocked at how quickly and vastly everything had changed.

They had seen everything, from the moment their mortal bodies had hit the floor of their home and they had appeared here. They knew, impeccably, what had happened tonight, as their new circumstances allowed. They were mortified at the mistake they'd made in trusting Peter, amazed at his callous ability to betray them as easily as he had. They knew how much of a mistake the Ministry had made in arresting Sirius and were distraught over the fate of their good friend.

It paled, however, to that of the fate of their son.

They had watched the scene play out; had followed Hagrid with Harry on Sirius' motorbike, had heard the exchange between their old professors and friend. They watched now, in appalled silence, as their little boy was left on the Muggle doorstep, heard Dumbledore's murmured, "Good luck, Harry," before he disapparated away, leaving their baby on his own.

And only after they had all gone did either of them finally react. "Harry," Lily said in a broken, horrified whisper, reaching out as if to touch him, as if it were possible, "With Petunia." She shook her head, if only because she had no idea at all of how to respond. As much as she hated to admit it, she knew how her sister was, especially since marrying. She knew what living with them would be like for Harry. As much as she hated to admit it, she wished he'd been left anywhere else.

Beside her, James wanted to punch something. "I can't believe this! Sirius-" his voice broke and he found himself seated on the ground, elbows resting against his knees and his face in his hands. "He was supposed to go with his godfather. With Sirius."

"How could Dumbledore leave him with them?" Lily asked, sinking to her knees beside her husband and, when he lifted his head, taking his hand, though neither was sure just who exactly was comforting whom.

James shook his head. "Knowing him, I'm sure he has his reasons, but…" He trailed off helplessly.

"They'll be horrible to him," Lily whispered, her eyes still on her sleeping son, "They-they hate us. All of us. And they'll… " She paused, biting her lip. "They'll hate him too. My poor baby."

James squeezed her hand, not trusting himself at the moment to speak, and Lily, despite how much she wished one of them could have survived for Harry, and despite how incredibly guilty she felt for not being with him now, found herself grateful at the same time that James was with her. She wasn't alone here at least.

Coming back to himself a bit, James, still seated on the ground, wrapped an arm around his wife and pulled her close. He, too, never looked away from Harry. Lily leaned into him, taking what comfort she could from the gesture in the midst of her anguish.

This wasn't it for them. They still knew nothing about what came next, what they were supposed to do, now that they had both died and come here. They hadn't taken the time to figure anything out yet, singly focused as they'd been since arriving. They both probably had loved ones here waiting for them somewhere and, at some point, they would need to find them and figure everything out. But for now it could wait as, with an unspoken agreement, the couple settled in to keep watch over their boy, alone outside the Dursleys' door, until they could be sure he'd been found, taken in, and was safe, if not exactly happy.

For now, that was the most they could hope for.

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 **Thank you for reading!**


	2. Hagrid

**Thank you for those of you who read and reviewed last chapter. I've never written anything like this before and I'm kind of still figuring it out as I go along, so your feedback is really appreciated. :)**

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"These people are mental," James said for what was probably the four-hundredth time that day alone, "Absolutely mental. I mean, I knew that already, but _Merlin's beard!_ " His absurd incredulity seemed to be warring against his general rage at the most recent Dursley situation. Lily said nothing, but she couldn't deny that her sister's family was of a different breed entirely.

They had watched, James with great amusement, as Hogwarts letter after Hogwarts letter had bombarded Number 4 Privet Drive over the past week, effectively driving Vernon Dursley to near madness, and the results it had wrought in recent days. James had sworn that when he and Dumbledore met again one day, he would have to shake the man's hand and thank him for the fine work.

They now stood sentinel over Harry's form on the floor, as they almost always did, watching over him and wondering-they couldn't help it-what would happen next. They knew as well as anyone, except apparently Lily's Muggle family, that no amount of distance or seclusion would be sufficient to evade Hogwarts when they wanted something. Especially when that something happened to be Harry James Potter.

Harry, who would be turning eleven in a matter of seconds now and clearly knew it, was wide-awake and eyeing the considerable form of his sleeping cousin on the couch beside him with a mischievous glint in his eye; a glint that was replicated on James' face a moment later when the two of them figured out what was about to happen. "Oh, this is gonna be good," he said excitedly, grinning impishly as the huge banging noise rang out in the small house. He lost it completely at Dudley's ridiculous question and saw no end in sight for his laugher as the scene played out, with Hagrid appearing in the rickety doorway, to the immense chagrin of Vernon and Petunia, a moment later. Lily smiled amusedly and looked to be fighting laughter herself at times.

It made for quite the welcome change as, for the last ten years that Harry had been with the Muggles, there had been little room for anything other than anger and indignation at their horrendous treatment of him. Maybe it was wrong, but a little chaos was the least the lot deserved.

Until Hagrid pulled out the cake for Harry. The two sobered significantly at that, the first birthday cake their son had gotten in ten years, mushed as it was. "Oh, Hagrid," Lily murmured, eyeing the gigantic man with a gratitude he couldn't see. James might have vowed to thank Dumbledore for the onslaught of letters, but she would be thanking Hagrid for his simple gesture, for letting Harry know that he mattered to _someone_. Undoubtedly, the former hadn't thought twice about doing it, but she loved him for it all the same.

Lily and James watched Hagrid's exchange with their son and his ensuing argument with Vernon and Petunia, James smiling darkly whenever he was rude to the Dursleys. There was no denying the extreme pleasure they both took from Harry's finally learning the truth about himself, after all this time.

"You knew?" Harry asked, looking at his uncle with an unmistakable betrayal in his eyes, "You knew I'm a-a wizard?"

Petunia spoke up suddenly, nearly shrieking. Lily and James listened to her rant about how awful it had been for her to grow up with a witch for a sister, how she and James had met at school, and married, and had Harry, who was "just the same, just as strange, just as-as-abnormal!" as they were. James' anger had grown with her every word-she'd spoken badly about Harry a hundred times over, which he despised but had grown unfortunately used to, but to speak about his Lily that way was unforgivable. Lily, though, just listened on with a sort of resigned disinterest. Petunia's words were nothing she hadn't heard before.

"Blown up?" Harry demanded, white with confusion and anger, picking up on the inconsistency in her story with the one he knew to be true, "You told me they died in a car crash!"

"CAR CRASH!" Hagrid roared at the Dursleys, sending them all scurrying away in anger before proceeding to rant himself, this time on the Potters' behalf, and then to explain to Harry, briefly, what had happened on that fateful night that had changed his life forever, singing the praises of James and Lily as he did. Harry looked on in wonder, like a man dying of thirst looks after water, and then a momentary painful recognition flashed in his eyes, which neither of his parents had an answer for. Surely he'd been far too young to remember anything of that night.

Vernon spoke up again and the two watched as Hagrid, with his pink umbrella, silenced him quickly before continuing on, calmly answering Harry's question about Voldemort.

Lily's heart broke for her son when he informed Hagrid quietly that he'd made a mistake, that he couldn't be a wizard, like he didn't think himself special enough for such a thing. When Hagrid replied, asking reassuringly about accidental magic, resulting in a look of realization in Harry's eyes and, eventually, a smile on his face, she loved the large man even more.

Vernon, the stupid man, spoke up again, incredibly angry, and James decided he was extremely lucky he couldn't do something about it himself. Had he still be alive, his actions against the man would have landed him in Azkaban for sure. And it would have been incredibly worth it.

He'd always liked Hagrid, but never more than he liked him in the moment he gave Harry's useless bully of a cousin extra anatomy. Before he really even realized what had happened, James found himself in stitches once more.

Beside him, Lily looked silently pleased herself. She'd never fancied herself a violent or vengeful person, but these people had gone way too far. Hagrid had risked his job on Harry's behalf, on top of all he'd already done. He'd shown more concern and love for her baby in a span of ten minutes than the Dursleys had shown him in ten years, and she wasn't about to forget that.

And if she hadn't loved Hagrid already, offering Harry his jacket to use as a blanket certainly sealed the deal.

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 **Thanks for reading.**


	3. Sorting

**Hi, guys!  
**

 **Thanks for all the reviews, favorites, and follows you all have given this story already! They are seriously encouraging, especially as I wasn't sure how well something like this would be received! Keep being awesome. :)**

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The line of new first years waiting in line in the Great Hall grew shorter and shorter, and Lily and James found themselves growing increasingly nervous as Harry's name came closer and closer to being called. Which was stupid, James reckoned, because certainly there was only one outcome that made any sense. Wasn't there? He was a Gryffindor, as had been the vast majority of Potters before him, and Lily was too. Every one of the marauders had been, as well as almost every other decent witch or wizard he had ever known. Surely, it stood to reason that it would be the obvious choice for Harry as well. James couldn't imagine his son being sorted anywhere else. Sure, he'd be proud of him regardless, as was the strange, inexplicable magic that parenthood had wrought on him the moment Harry was born, but there was just something special about a son following in his father's footsteps and being sorted into the same House.

All the same, James was optimistic. They'd watched him grow up and, oppressive as Lily's awful relatives were, there had been times when Harry's reactions could mark him as none other than a Gryffindor, and a silently rebellious one at that-a young man after James' own heart. These displays were always an encouraging sight for James, who loathed his inability to ever aid his young son in his current state of deadness.

Lily, for her part, didn't think she would mind if Harry wasn't put in the same house as his parents. She'd known many a decent Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw during her time in school. Both were good houses, even if she did think Gryffindor was better, biased as she was. She couldn't reconcile herself with the idea that her son could be in Slytherin however. She couldn't imagine her Harry with that fate. Not after what that House had done to Severus, a dark transformation that had occurred before her helpless eyes. She couldn't remember a single green-clad student that she had ever particularly liked aside from her childhood friend, and even he, after a while, became rather repulsive as the dark arts took hold. Lily hated to think that Harry could potentially be subjected to the same fate.

Minerva McGonagall called the name of Sally-Anne Perks, the small, brown-haired girl directly in front of Harry, and the little girl made her way to the stool, leaving Harry, looking exceptionally nervous and possibly a bit nauseous, at the head of the remaining waiting students. The Sorting Hat made short work of declaring her a Hufflepuff and then it was his turn.

As soon as McGonagall called his name, "Potter, Harry!" the Great Hall, which had been rather quiet and respectful throughout the Sorting except when it came time for the students to cheer on the newest addition to their House, broke out in surprised whispers and the majority of the students were suddenly questioning whether they'd heard correctly and leaning around each other for a better view. Harry looked decidedly uncomfortable at the reaction, but made his way dutifully to the waiting stool and sat down. The hat was placed upon him, covering his eyes, and the hall quickly grew quiet again, waiting.

For a handful of seconds, nothing happened. Lily and James exchanged a glance, their anxiety mounting. It wasn't exactly rare for the hat to take a while to decide, but it wasn't common either. They, along with the entirety of Hogwarts, waited.

After a few moments and, Lily had the feeling, something of a mental discourse between the hat and Harry, the tear in the Sorting Hat opened and it bellowed aloud for the waiting Great Hall, "GRYFFINDOR!"

A wave of joy, as well as relief, washed over Lily and she smiled. Gryffindor was a truly wonderful house to be in and she hoped Harry would find a family within its members to make up for the less than stellar job Petunia and her husband had done. Beside her, James whooped in exultation as the hat was lifted off Harry's dark head and he made his way to the Gryffindor table, which was in utter pandemonium. "That's my boy!" James crowed in celebration to no one in particular, "Gryffindor! I knew it! I bloody knew it! Cheers! Cheers all around! My boy's a Gryffindor!" He turned and took Lily in his arms, lifting her and twirling her around while she laughed, both at him and with him. "Sweet Merlin, that's great," he breathed when he let her go.

She took a deep breath and blew it out slowly. "God, I was so worried he would be in Slytherin," she murmured, letting go of her lingering nervousness for her son.

James halted his celebration and looked at her. "Why?" he asked, curious.

Lily shrugged and shook her head helplessly, watching Harry as he sat and watched the sortings after him with his new House. "I don't know, really."

James, even from beyond the grave, did not like Severus Snape in the slightest, and he was not unaware of how badly the greasy git had hurt her in school-a fact that only fueled his dislike, nor was he ignorant to her feelings toward the House she held responsible for Snape's actions. He wrapped an arm around her and pulled her close, watching Harry himself. "It's okay," he said gently, "He's in Gryffindor. He'll be fine."

Lily nodded in agreement and was quiet for another moment as Ron Weasley, the boy Harry had sat with on the train, was also sorted into Gryffindor. Harry looked extremely pleased as the redhead approached the table and took the seat beside him. Lily smiled then, happy that he had a friend in his House already. She remembered all too well the culture shock it had been to go from the Muggle world to Hogwarts. She hadn't been fortunate enough to have a friend with her from the start. "It is great, isn't it?" she said after a moment.

"It's bloody brilliant," James replied, completely unashamed, his grin returning.

Lily cast him a glance out of the corner of her eye before looking back at the scene as Dumbledore stood to speak. "Let's just hope he doesn't wreak as much havoc as you did in school."

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 **The ending might be a little weak, but ya know, I tried.  
**

 **Thanks for reading and feel free to check out my other one-shots if you haven't done so. :)**


	4. Quidditch

**Hello! Another update for you. Enjoy!**

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Harry looked exceptionally nervous right up until his feet left the ground and he flew up into the air over the Quidditch pitch. After that happened, he seemed perfectly content, if not a bit excited. The instant change in his demeanor brought a smile to his parents' faces as they watched. James beamed with pride and Lily couldn't help feeling slightly amused. Harry was definitely his father's son, born to fly.

Of course, they'd seen him on a broom before, every time since that first flying lesson which had left James whooping in exultation at Harry's inborn prowess and laughing at the awful Malfoy boy's expense. The two had watched every Quidditch practice and joy ride Harry had taken part in up to this point. Lily, for her part, did not care nearly as much as James for the sport itself nor the finer points of flying in which Harry excelled, though it was undeniable that he was, indeed, an exceptional Quidditch player for his age. She loved more, though, the unmasked joy that her son obviously took from flying. He reminded her so much of James' own time on the Gryffindor team. He'd had the same look about him.

James, beside her, was watching the game calculatingly, his eyes trailing to Harry and scanning the pitch occasionally, as Harry did, looking for the golden Snitch, while largely keeping track of the goings on of the game and the other players. He nodded approvingly when Oliver Wood blocked the Slytherin Chaser from scoring and, leaning forward in anticipation as the Gryffindor team made its way with the Quaffle back up the field toward the opposite goal posts, muttered, "Come on," to no one in particular as Angelina Johnson, the Chaser for Gryffindor, moved to take the shot. "Come on- Yes!" Gryffindor had scored the first goal and Lily smiled in amusement at James, who paid her no attention, enraptured.

Lily, though she watched and rooted for the Gryffindor team in loyalty to the house to which her family belonged, paid significantly more attention to Harry. When Angelina scored, he gave a few loop-the-loops in celebration, which left Lily smiling wider, enjoying his excitement. So far, the Snitch had yet to make an appearance and otherwise Harry had done little more than fly a ways above the game, scanning the area for it, but she was struck by how happy he seemed doing so. She's always imagined the Seeker position, though it was incredibly important, to be rather boring most of the time, despite being the one to get most of the credit for the outcome of the game. Harry, though, didn't seem bored in the slightest. He, like his father, though far more thorough, scanned the entirety of the pitch, searching for a glint of gold while still keeping an eye on the game below him.

Harry zeroed in on something momentarily and Lily followed his gaze, searching for a flash of gold, but there was nothing there. Harry too seemed to determine what he'd seen was a false alarm and went back to circling overhead until a Bludger came pelting toward him. He dodged it easily, and yet it still scared Lily, more than she wanted to admit, to watch.

Neither Lily nor James was paying much attention to the announcer until he broke off abruptly mid-sentence and asked excitedly, "-wait a moment-was that the Snitch?" Both zeroed in on Harry then, who had also heard Lee Jordan's words and quickly spotted the Snitch. A jubilant expression crossed his face and he dove toward the ground after the streak of gold at the same time as the Slytherin Seeker. Around them, the rest of the game had ground to a halt as the Chasers on both sides stopped in midair to watch. Harry had the better broom and was faster. Looking determined, he sped further down and, when it was obvious he would get there first, the Slytherin captain abandoned his current post and collided hard with the unsuspecting Harry, sending him tumbling in midair. Lily's heart jumped to her throat and James, indignant and amazed at the lack of tact in that obvious foul, shouted, "Are you kidding-foul! _Disgusting_ foul!" His words mirrored that of the angry Gryffindor students in the stands.

To his parents' relief, Harry was able to regain control of his broom and stay in the air, and Marcus Flint, the filthy cheat, was reprimanded for his actions and looked thoroughly unfazed about it. The Snitch vanished and the game began again, Lee Jordan struggling to reign in his anger enough to commentate, much to McGonnagal's frustration. James, however, wholeheartedly agreed with the young man's assessment of the Slytherin's "open and revolting foul," and Lily couldn't find it in herself to disapprove either. That House team, it seemed, was still as slimy as it had been during their time at Hogwarts.

After a few more uneventful minutes, another Bludger came streaking toward Harry, who again dodged it, though not as gracefully as the first time. Seeming to lose control for a moment, his broom gave an almighty lurch, almost bucking him off. Harry looked unsettled, and at first, with a glance between them, James and Lily chalked it up to a mistake, though, admittedly, an odd mistake for someone as skilled on a broom as Harry to make. But then it happened again, and again, and neither was convinced anymore.

James watched Harry, his broom bucking around, holding on for dear life, in growing concern, the Gryffindor-Slytherin game forgotten. Lily tore her eyes away from the scene before her and looked at her husband. "What's going on?" she asked, looking back again quickly. Her breath hitched as Harry's broom gave a particularly hard jerk. James, confused and worried, just shook his head. He had no idea what was happening, but he was certain whatever it was, it was not Harry's doing. His son was an outstanding flier and his broom was top of the line. Something was wrong.

The game continued on, oblivious to Harry's struggles. Slytherin scored. James and Lily paid it no attention. Both were powerless to do anything to help their son, whose predicament seemed likely to continue on for a while. "Could someone have bewitched the broom?" James asked, bewildered. Students were finally starting to notice Harry struggling with the jerking, twisting, spinning broomstick and it didn't take long before most everyone was watching, dumbstruck, as the broom started rolling over in midair, its occupant hanging on for dear life.

"Maybe," Lily answered nervously, "I don't know of any powerful enough to affect a broomstick. Don't they have charms built in to prevent that sort of thing?"

"Yes, but a broomstick like that doesn't just go nutters for no reason."

"It would have to be a dark and powerful charm. I don't think any student could-" She broke off and gave a startled yelp as Harry's broom gave a magnificent jerk and he was left hanging from the handle or the still-fighting broomstick by one hand. "Oh my God," she whispered in horror.

"Bloody hell," James said. He stepped closer to Lily and wrapped an arm around her comfortingly. He desperately hoped they weren't about to be reunited with their son. Much as he would have loved that, it was far too soon.

Harry's teammates were trying, with absolutely no success, to help him, however the broom was moving too much for them to get near and they were clearly wary of causing their Seeker to fall off. Lily was grateful for their caution. Some small part of her noted the Slytherin Chaser scoring over and over on his distracted opponent. Had her son not been in extreme danger, she might have been more annoyed.

Suddenly, the broom stilled in the air and Harry was able to clamber back on, looking shaken and bewildered but otherwise unhurt. Lily and James' relief was almost palpable. Lily sighed in relief and leaned into an astounded James, who demanded, "What happened?" The received no answer.

Harry, wisely not willing to risk another mad-broom episode, took off like a shot toward the ground. Halfway there, he clamped a hand over his mouth and Lily feared all the spinning and twisting was about to take its toll. He landed on all fours on the floor of the Quidditch pitch and coughed-and something shiny fell into his hand. Lily's jaw fell open.

"Oh my-you've got to be joking," James demanded, but a grin had spread across his face as Harry sprang to his feet, golden ball held aloft, and shouted that he had caught the Snitch. James began to laugh. "That's my boy! He got the Snitch! In his _mouth_! They've won! I don't believe it!"

Beside him, relieved that Harry had survived that mysterious ordeal and beyond thrilled that he had won he game for his House, Lily was at a complete loss for words at that confusing whirlwind of a Quidditch game. She could think of nothing to say. She just laughed.

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 **Thanks for reading!  
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	5. Christmas

**Okay, so I typed this up pretty quickly and I'm not sure how I feel about it, but I really wanted to have these scenes in here, so I did my best. Thank you for all the support you guys have given this story so far. It is definitely appreciated!**

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Christmas morning dawned bright and cold outside Hogwarts and, as James and Lily watched, Harry, after stretching and slowly opening his eyes, threw back the covers from his body and sat up, his gaze immediately focusing on the small pile of wrapped parcels that waited at the foot of his bed. They had seen the house elves deliver them in the early predawn hours, and ever since then, they, Lily especially, had been eagerly awaiting their discovery by Harry; the first real Christmas presents he would receive in living memory.

Ron Weasley, the only other occupant in the first year dormitory over the holidays, wished Harry, "Merry Christmas," as the latter scrambled to don his dressing down in excitement. Harry's look of utter surprise at his waiting gifts would have been funny, James reckoned, if the fact that it was there in the first place, that he'd honestly not expected anything, hadn't been so sad.

"Will you look at this?" Harry said to Ron breathlessly, "I've got some presents!" Lily and James smiled, and a moment later, the latter was chuckling at Ron's retort of, "What did you expect, turnips?" He found he liked the boy more and more.

Tentatively, Harry turned toward his stack of presents and picked up the first gift, wrapped in thick paper and marked as being from Hagrid. Lily, as was not unusual by this point, found herself smiling and her heart filling with yet more love for the giant man who was constantly going out of his way to make her son feel wanted and to whom she already owed so much. The parcel, it turned out, revealed a hand-whittled wooden flute, which Harry blew into hesitantly and, at the owl-like sound it produced, smiled and looked pleased.

The next present, from the Dursleys, was quite pitiful and, as was far from surprising given what James and Lily had come to expect from her pathetic relatives, contained a mere fifty pence piece. While Harry was clearly unimpressed with his aunt and uncle's idea of a Christmas present, Ron was fascinated by it and, seeming amused at his interest, he let him keep it.

The remaining presents seemed to confuse Harry, who clearly had not the faintest idea of what they could be and whom they were from. He voiced similar thoughts a moment later and Ron, seeming embarrassed, explained, while Harry tore into the next package, how he had mentioned his friend's situation to his mum and how she had taken it upon herself to ensure he received a gift from her and Arthur.

Harry's expression had taken on a surprised quality at this information and, as he examined the hand knit jumper and homemade fudge that Molly had sent, he looked pleased, if not slightly taken aback. Lily and James watched in mutual contentment at the scene and Lily breathed, "Oh, Molly."

Hermione Granger gave Harry a box of chocolate frogs, which seemed to delight him further, and after this, only one present remained. Looking quizzical, he picked it up and, a curious expression on his face, began to open it. James, watching, drew in a breath. "No," he murmured in disbelief to no one in particular, "It can't be." Though as Harry tore the wrapping away and held the garment up in front of him, it became obvious very quickly that it was, indeed, James' invisibility cloak.

"He kept it," Lily put in, surprised. Dumbledore had been in possession of the cloak when Voldemort had attacked their family on that fateful night ten years earlier and had apparently held on to it since.

"I love that man," James said, excited now.

"I'm surprised he gave it to him so soon," Lily said, smiling at the reactions of the boys as Harry tried the cloak on. She and James could see him through it, though both knew such was not the case for Ron, who cried out in surprise.

"Harry's the rightful owner now. Dumbledore knows that surely."

"I know. Even so, any other teacher likely would have waited a few more years. Harry's only eleven."

"That doesn't matter to Dumbledore," James said, "And that cloak is right useful."

Lily, with a sideways look at her husband, said lightly, "He might change that stance if Harry turns into as much of a menace as you were in school."

"Nah, not Dumbledore. He'd just think it was hilarious." Lily, beside him, just smirked. James was probably right.

The two of them continued to watch all throughout the day of what was definitely the best Christmas their son had ever had. Lily, since dying, had found holidays rather difficult as she'd watched Harry suffer through them at the hands of her sister and brother-in-law, usually locked out of sight and overlooked completely. They always seemed to twist like a knife in her gut to remind her that she was not there for her son and missed out on so very much. This Christmas, however, was far different. It was still painful to be completely and permanently separated from Harry, but to see him happy, laughing, and enjoying himself with the Weasleys, who had, without hesitation, adopted him into their family, eased the burden a bit.

After the Christmas feast, the day was approaching its end and, as Harry readied himself for bed, James and Lily looked on, feeling happier than they could remember being on a Christmas since he had been six months old.

They continued to watch when, a few hours later, Harry snuck from the Gryffindor dormitory under the cover of his new cloak and eventually found his way into the abandoned classroom where the Mirror of Erised waited. Neither had ever seen the mirror themselves before, but, as was the case with many things now that they had passed on, knew immediately what it did and what it meant when Harry, as he came to stand before it, still underneath the invisibility cloak, froze. Being beyond the land of the living did not allow them any more insight to what it was their son saw in the mirror than it would have had they been standing, alive and whole, beside him, but they were not left in suspense for very long.

Harry, looking startled, glanced behind him, away from the mirror, as if checking to see that he was truly alone, before turning back to it again. He stared at the image it presented him for a moment, studying it, before his eyes widened slightly.

His next words sent identical waves of shock and pain through both Lily and James. "Mom? Dad?"

Lily, with a small gasp, reached out and took her husband's hand. He squeezed it in reply. "He sees us," he whispered, "The thing he desires, more than anything else… is us."

"Oh, my baby," Lily murmured, her other hand covering her gaping mouth and tears filling her eyes. "Harry…"

The expression on Harry's face as he stood staring into the depths of the mirror was one of intense longing, of joy battling with sadness, and neither James nor Lily needed to say anything to know that they understood mutually that this was the first time their son, who had not been shown even a single photograph of them in over ten years' time, was seeing his family for the first time.

Harry remained in his spot, planted in the dusty classroom, for over an hour, unmoving, his gaze never leaving the image in the mirror. Then, he jumped a little and, tearing his eyes away at last, looked around momentarily, apparently coming to something of a decision, and turned back again. His eyes lingered lovingly on the image before him for another second. Then he whispered, "I'll come back," and, still hidden beneath his cloak, hurried from the room.

They watched from a distance as he made his way back through the deserted castle to his dormitory and, once he was in bed again, Lily met James' eyes. She saw the pain and turmoil she felt reflected back in them. He saw his sense of helplessness in hers. Neither said anything. They didn't need to. There was nothing they could do. There was nothing to say.

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 **I know that in the book, Harry sees more than just his parents in the mirror, but given that James and Lily can't see exactly what he sees and he only explicitly says "Mom" and "Dad," I left it sort of ambiguous as to who exactly the mirror showed him.  
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 **Thanks for reading!**


	6. Quirrell

**Hello! Sorry for the wait with this update, but my first semester of college began last week and it has been taking up quite a bit of my time.**

 **Thank you to those of you who have followed/favorited this story and especially to those of you who have left reviews. They really do help a lot!**

 **Enjoy! :)**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters in this story, nor do I own any of the recognizable lines in this chapter, as they are taken directly from _The Sorcerer's Stone._**

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"Oh, Harry, no," Lily pleaded in barely a whisper as Harry and Hermione parted ways, the latter for the safety of the castle above and the former to face the man, if he could even be called such, who waited for him.

That was the problem with being dead: Lily and James did not share in Harry's ignorance of the situation. They knew exactly who was in the next chamber, and the prospect of their son, all of eleven years old and unaware completely of the dark power that awaited him, was possibly the most terrifying thing they could imagine. As nice as it would to be reunited with Harry again someday, that day needed to be long in the future.

They followed their son through the wall of fire, untouched by its heat, and with their hands clasped firmly together, unsure of whom was drawing comfort from whom. The expression of total shock on Harry's face at finding his Defense Against the Dark Arts professor awaiting him in the final chamber would have, in a different situation, been endearing, amusing even. Instead, it only made his parents, Lily especially, feel that much worse. He'd been so sure it was going to be Severus Snape waiting there for him. He had no idea.

Lily was no stranger to the hatred toward Severus shared by those she loved. James had disliked him from the start, with little good reason, and his feelings toward the man who had been her childhood best friend had not improved in the time since their deaths. Harry may have been just a little more entitled to his feelings, if only because Severus was truly terrible to him - a matter she would be discussing with the Slytherin once his time came. Her feelings toward the man had not always been the most positive either, though after Harry's birth she'd allowed herself to believe that relations between her husband and her former friend were improving. And so it pained her to watch Harry's adamant dislike and suspicion of him. Serverus had, for a time, been wrapped up in things he should have stayed far away from, but he was not a bad man, nor a bad wizard, and, whatever his reasons, he was not working for Voldemort anymore.

Quirrell met Harry's shock with an amused calmness and, in growing triumph, answered his every question with the truth. Harry appeared to be struggling to believe it, he'd been so convinced he was right. "Snape was trying to save me?" he asked, looking amazed at the idea.

James, for all his history with Snivellus, was grateful for his efforts in attempting to protect Harry thus far, though only just, as the man had been a complete git toward his son since the beginning.

"…And what a waste of time, when after all that, I am going to kill you tonight," Quirrell finished with a flourish and, with a snap of his fingers, bound Harry tightly in ropes. Lily made a helpless sound, at a loss for what to say or do. Harry, for his part, seemed rather unfazed by this unfortunate change and continued demanding answers of his teacher as the pieces, too late, clicked into place for him.

James couldn't help but feel some pride in his son, however, when, once it became obvious that Quirrell needed quiet to concentrate on the mirror, Harry set to keeping him talking and distracted at all costs. That was his son, Gryffindor through and through, unwilling to admit defeat, imminent though it seemed.

Eventually, Harry's responses ceased and, looking around him, he appeared to be deep in thought. An idea seemed to have struck him, but he was apparently unable to free himself from his bindings to enact it. He shuffled, bound, slightly to the left, but, with the robes wrapped tightly around his ankles, quickly lost his footing and landed hard on the stone floor. James and Lily winced simultaneously. Quirrell took no notice, absorbed as he was. "What does this mirror do? How does it work? Help me, Master!" he said aloud, his desperation growing.

The disembodied reply, though Lily and James knew where it was coming from, was unnerving, a point that was not helped by the fact that Voldemort's voice instructed Quirrell to use Harry to accomplish his means. Harry, for his part, seemed more confused than anything else, and when Quirrell removed the ropes, he made no haste in getting to his feet.

He obeyed when his teacher beckoned him forward, though he continued to move slowly, his expression one of desperate deliberation. He reached the mirror's base and looked into it as Quirrell instructed. His answering lie, though his parents saw right through it, was apparently good enough for Quirrell, who did not question his answer but rather grew frustrated and pushed him aside. Unfortunately, though not entirely unexpectedly, Voldemort was not as easily fooled.

When Quirrell revealed the face of Voldemort in the back of his bald head, Harry looked horrified, stunned silent and apparently rooted to the spot. And, in fairness, this was not an unreasonable reaction. Lily gasped and covered her hands with her mouth, "Oh my God!"

James gaped for a moment and then managed weakly, "That's attractive." For though they had known about the dark wizard's existence on the back of Quirinus Quirrell's head, actually seeing it was another matter entirely.

Harry stood frozen and horrorstruck as the face of Voldemort spoke to him about his half-life existence and how he'd come to be located on the back of the head of a Hogwarts Defense teacher. It was only when he mentioned the stone in Harry's pocket, which had appeared as it was meant to, that their son regained control of his legs and stumbled backward.

"Don't be a fool," snarled the face. "Better save your own life and join me... or you'll meet the same end as your parents... They died begging me for mercy..."

"Don't listen to him, Harry," murmured James, while Lily, looking terrified, shushed him.

"LIAR!" Harry cried suddenly, looking outraged at the mere suggestion.

"How touching..." Voldemort's hissing voice continued, "I always value bravery... Yes, boy, your parents were brave... I killed your father first; and he put up a courageous fight... but your mother needn't have died... she was trying to protect you... Now give me the Stone, unless you want her to have died in vain." James' teeth clenched. Lily stood frozen.

"NEVER!" Harry yelled and took off toward the door of flames blocking his exit from the chamber.

What happened next, neither Lily nor James could have expected. At Voldemort's order, Quirrell shot forward and grabbed Harry's wrist. The contact did not last long at all before Harry let out a blood-curdling scream of pain and Quirrell released him and shied away, so fast he might have been pulled by some invisible force, hunching over in pain and favoring the offending hand, watching as, before his eyes, his fingers erupted in open blisters.

Again at Voldemort's order, Quirrell lunged toward Harry once more, knocking him off his feet, landing atop him, and wrapping his hands around his neck. Harry appeared to be in an agony completely unrelated to his teacher's grip. His eyes were watering and his face was contorted with obvious pain, which still seemed second to that which Quirrell was experiencing from the contact with Harry's skin. "Master, I cannot hold him - my hands - my hands!" Harry watched, pinned under Quirrell, as the latter, in bemused misery, lifted his hands from his student once more and stared, open-mouthed, at the skin of his hands, which looked severely and unexplainably burnt.

Voldemort issued the order to kill, but before Quirrell could do more than raise his hand, Harry, enlightened to this new power, went on the offensive and placed a hand on his teacher's face. Quirrell, with a yell of agony, rolled off Harry, his face, too, erupting in blisters. Harry, sure now of his unexplainable advantage, hastened to his feet and grabbed tight to Quirrell's arm and, even as the man cried out and attempted to jerk away, he did not let go. Harry's consciousness seemed to be failing him, as he was clearly experiencing extraordinary pain of his own, but he held fast as Voldemort yelled furiously and Quirrell struggled, apparently growing weaker with every second.

"Bloody hell," James whispered, wide-eyed.

"What is happening?" Lily cried, watching the scene play out in complete panic, as Harry's eyes began to roll back in his head. It was at that moment, however, that Albus Dumbledore appeared, in a burst of flame, and wrenched Quirrell's feebly struggling and violently twitching form from Harry's grasp and Harry, limp and unconscious, crumbled to the floor.

James did not move a muscle, nor did he pay attention to Dumbledore's dispatching of Voldermort and Quirrell, but stared intently at the prone form of Harry on the stone floor until, after a moment, he could just detect the shallow movement of his chest beneath his filthy robes that indicated their son would not be joining them at that very moment. He wrapped Lily in numb arms then and pulled her close. "It's okay," he whispered to her, "He's alive. He's alive, it's okay." Lily, for her part, said nothing, but, trembling and shaking with silent sobs, buried further into James' chest, turning against him just enough to allow her gaze to remain fixed unwaveringly on their son.

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	7. Great Escape

**Hi, guys!**

 **I'm sorry it's been so long since I've updated. The start of college has been incredibly busy. I am planning to continue this story, it just might take a little while. I promise to try to update more frequently. Thank you so much for sticking around!**

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"Who do you think you are?" Lily raged at her brother-in-law, watching, revolted, as the man Vernon Dursley had hired secured a set of metal bars to the outside of Harry's bedroom window after condemning him to the room for the remainder of the summer. "You're a legal guardian, not a slave driver! You have no right! This is child abuse!"

"Lily," James said evenly, placing a hand on her shoulder, "He can't hear you."

"I don't care," Lily replied, fighting back tears of frustration and anger. She was usually a fairly levelheaded person. Few things got her worked up like this, but her in-laws' bullying of their son was definitely one of them. It wasn't that James was by any means okay with the treatment his son was receiving at the hand the Dursleys-he never was. In fact, the only thing preventing him from breaking down the front door of Number Four Privet Drive and dealing with Vernon-and Petunia too for that matter-himself was the fact that he was dead and torturously prevented from doing so.

James stepped closer and put an arm around her, watching as Harry watched the man secure him in his prison before turning and flinging himself down on his bed, looking resentful and powerless. James wondered how the man could be so oblivious to the fact that the room he was barring the window of was currently serving as a prison cell. "It's not even his fault," Lily murmured mournfully.

"Is it ever?" James asked, "The bloody people would keep him locked in there permanently if they had any justification at all. The only thing holding them back before was their fear of Harry's magic and the stupid house elf ruined that."

"I know," said Lily miserably. She sighed and took a deep breath to steady herself before glancing sideways at her husband. "I was really hoping he could keep up that charade for a while."

For three days, James and Lily kept watch over Harry as he was confined to his room. James in particular thought he took it pretty well, but he supposed that wasn't overly surprising considering the boy did spend the majority of his life so far living in a cupboard under the stairs. Harry was miserable, sure, but the owl seemed far more stir-crazy after three days than he was.

When his dinner-an unappetizing vegetable soup was brought to him via the cat flap in his bedroom door-it made Lily angrier every time she looked at the thing- Harry, in one gulp, drank half the contents and then, though he was surely starving, crossed the tiny bedroom and deposited the remaining vegetables in a displeased-looking Hedwig's food bowl. It was that scene, more than any other over the past days that both broke Lily's heart in two and filled her with pride. Their son, though he was imprisoned indefinitely and half-starved, loved his owl, his only companion, enough to share with her the measly amounts of food he was allowed.

With his stomach audibly growling in the dark bedroom, Harry fell asleep with his parents keeping helpless watch by his side. A few hours later, the quiet night was disrupted by the sound of a car engine, growing nearer and nearer. "No," James said in amazement, watching the approaching Ford Anglia _flying_ toward Harry's barred window. "No way," he laughed, "I _love_ those boys!"

For the first time in a long while, Lily found herself smiling at her son's situation as he, after a minute, woke up and, in shock, made his way to the bedroom window, gaping and struggling to find words.

James, with nothing short of pride in his voice, looked on proudly as Fred and George entered the bedroom, picked the door's lock, and then proceeded downstairs to the cupboard under the stairs to retrieve Harry's things. "Blimey, I couldn't have found better candidates for the map if I tired."

Lily cast him a sideways glance, but half-smiled. "I told you to get rid of that map. _Before_ you bunch of prats got it confiscated."

"Yes, but if I'd done that, Fred and George wouldn't have been able to find it and carry on in the marauders' stead. And they're doing a fine job."

"You shouldn't encourage that."

"I'm dead, unfortunately. My encouragement doesn't amount to much," James replied dryly, "But you can't argue that their masterful marauding taught them the skills to help Harry now."

"No," said Lily lightly with a playfully grudging smile, "I suppose I can't."

The boys' plan seemed to be going off without a hitch until Harry, in his excitement, attempted to leave Hedwig behind, and the owl, having none of that, gave a loud, indignant screech. Vernon Dursley's bellow of "THAT RUDDY OWL!" followed shortly thereafter and things got chaotic very quickly.

Scrambling, Harry quickly passed Hedwig's cage to Ron in the car before climbing back onto the chest in front of his window to leave. Vernon, after knocking in the unlocked door, appeared in the doorway and, after standing stunned for half a second, dove at Harry, grabbing his ankle. "No," Lily murmured, watching in trepidation. Her brother-in-law couldn't ruin this escape. Harry couldn't stay at that house. He simply couldn't.

The Weasley brothers, coming to Harry's aid once more, grabbed hold of his arms and, together, pulled him toward the car while Vernon held firm, calling for Petunia. "Come on," James said, watching intensely. The Weasley boys had come too far in their rescue mission to fail now. They managed to get Harry into the car with a great tug, freeing him from his uncle's grasp. "Yes!" James cried, "Go, go!"

Fred drove the car away from the window, leaving all three Dursleys staring after them in shock, and Harry, rather cheekily, called back to them, "See you next summer!" James laughed. Lily, in her relief, wasn't far behind. She owed so much to the Weasleys. To all of them.

"God, I love those boys," James said again, grinning widely.

Lily had redirected her attention to her sister's family, still in Harry's abandoned bedroom where Vernon was now stomping and huffing about in great agitation. Petunia, for her part, looked mostly annoyed but, Lily could tell, the slightest bit impressed. Shaking her head, Lily said, "Serves them right. Treating my son like that…"

"One day," James said in agreement, "We are going to have a long talk with that family of yours." He wrapped an arm around her, "And I make no promise that it will be a pleasant one."

Leaning into him, Lily could only agree. "Not for them, maybe." In time, they would have that chance. For now, Harry was out of the Dursleys' grasp and that was more than either of his parents could have asked for just a few hours before.

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	8. Rogue Bludger

**Hey guys! Here's another update. And to those of you who regularly read and review, thank you! I love reading your feedback!**

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"What's going on?" Lily asked, eyeing the Bludger that seemed, against all reason, inexplicably attracted to Harry. "That Bludger… something's wrong." The Weaseley twins – always the Weasleys, she thought – flew alongside him, doing their best to keep the mad thing at bay, to no avail.

James had noticed it too and couldn't fault Lily's assessment. Bludgers were not supposed to target a specific player like this. "I have no idea. Seems it's been tampered with, though I have no clue how. The gear should all be locked up when it's not being used for practice."

Before anything too awful could happen, George Weasley called for a time-out, during which Oliver Wood demanded to know what was going on and George, defending himself, confirmed that something was wrong with the Bludger in question. Before they could discuss it much further, Harry spoke up, looking at Fred and George. "Listen, with you two flying around me all the time the only way I'm going to catch the Snitch is if it flies up my sleeve. Go back to the rest of the team and let me deal with the rogue one." He sounded incredibly confident, but Lily was glad when Fred, having none of it, shot him down. Wood, however, seemed to be considering the idea.

Lily, appalled, glanced at James beside her before looking back to their son. "He won't really let them leave him, will he?"

James, far less concerned, shrugged. "You bet he will. He's the captain. It's Quidditch."

"Winning isn't worth their Seeker's life."

"They're playing Slytherin."

"It's just a game!"

James looked sideways at his wife, half a smirk playing at his lips. "'Just a game?' I seem to remember you caring quite a bit about that _game_ when we were in school. Especially during Seventh Year."

Lily rolled her eyes. "That was mostly for you."

"Please. You couldn't bear to see Slytherin win if you could help it. You weren't fooling me," James replied with a grin as Harry, against the claims of his teammates, said, "If we stop now, we'll have to forfeit the match! And we're not losing to Slytherin just because of a crazy Bludger!" James grinned. "See? The boy's a born athlete. He's not stupid. He'll be fine."

Lily said nothing, still worried at the speed of the Bludger Harry had just volunteered to deal with on his own. She agreed wholeheartedly with George's accusation of Wood: "This is all your fault! 'Get the Snitch or die trying,' what a stupid thing to tell him-" However, Harry would not be dissuaded and it was too late for him to argue further as Rolanda Hootch had joined them, looking expectant. A moment later, the Gryffindor team took to the air again.

This time, Harry was ready to for the Bludger and, as it sped after him, he spun and twirled and zigzagged away from it. Nevertheless, he looked determined and alert, his eyes sweeping back and forth behind his rain-soaked glasses in search of the Golden Snitch. Left, right, up, back, and up again, he looked like he was performing a gymnastics routine atop his broom and the crowd did not take long to notice. Their reactions varied from amusement to confusion and concern. The minutes dragged on though; Griffindor scored once and then again, and Harry, though he could not stop for a second, remained sat firmly upon his broomstick.

"Look at him fly!" James exulted as Harry executed a rather impressive move that included a twisted loop-the-loop and a complete one hundred eighty degree turn almost at once. Despite the circumstances, he was incredibly proud of his son, who obviously valued Quidditch as much as James did himself. And Harry was a spectacular flier. "Blimey! He's brilliant!"

Lily, who was more than a little impressed herself now that some time had passed and Harry had yet to be violently knocked from his broom, allowed herself half a smile in response. "He takes after his father," she said wryly.

It was at this moment that Draco Malfoy, after Harry performed a necessary and rather graceful midair twirl, called tauntingly after him. Harry turned back, glaring, but his expression changed almost instantly to one of surprise, though he did well to mask it from Draco. He stopped short in midair.

"Keep moving!" Lily yelled uselessly.

James, however, could see what caused their son to change course so abruptly. He, at the same time, called, "It's right there! Get it, Harry!"

The Snitch was hovering mere inches away from Draco's head and he was too stupid to notice.

Lily's cry of fear came out as little more than a squeak as the Bludger made contact with their son. James exhaled in a violent gasp. Both watched, wide-eyed and terror-struck, hardly daring to breathe, as the next seconds unfolded.

The Bludger hit Harry's right arm, jerking it backward and violently breaking it. The crack of their son's bones made James and Lily wince as one. From here, Harry half-fell sideways onto his broom, gripping it with his left hand, and hooked a knee over the handle. He looked shocked and dazed, and dangerously close to passing out. "Oh, God." Lilly murmured in horror as the Bludger went in for a second blow. This is it, she thought, Of all the ways Harry could have died in his life already, he was going to leave the world of the living at the hands of a rogue Bludger and his own stubbornness. What was it about Quidditch that made boys of all ages completely unreasonable?

James, though he too was terrified for Harry, had a little more faith in the situation. After all, he'd just seen his son perform some amazing moves on that broom of his. Harry wasn't gone yet.

Sure enough, Harry, squinting through half-closed eyes, swerved away from the Bludger at the last moment and dove at Malfoy, who – the idiot – appeared terrified and careened out of his way. Harry then, in a move not for the faint of heart, lifted his uninjured arm off his broom and grasped the Snitch in his hand, gripping the broomstick with just his legs. "Yes!" James yelled without even thinking, as the stands erupted in cheers. Harry beat an immediate and direct retreat toward the ground, now visibly struggling to remain conscious. Once at a safe distance from the ground, he rolled clumsily off his broom, his right arm limp at his side. Glancing at the Snitch gripped tightly in his undamaged hand, he muttered something incoherent and then fell to the ground in a dead faint before his teammates had even reached him.

There was a collective gasp as he fell and, a moment later, he was joined by the Gryffindor team, save Fred and George, who intercepted the Bludger as it moved to attack him once more, and Rolanda Hootch, who immediately dismounted and rushed to Harry's side. An instant later, Gilderoy Lockhart was there as well and Harry came to with the man leaning inexpertly over him. "Get away from my son," Lily hissed, "You gormless twit. You'll only make him worse!"

The moment he saw him, Harry put everything he had into refusing the useless wizard's help. Smart boy. But it his protests were no use and Harry was too weak to protest beyond that, which was how, a second later, he wound up with a boneless right arm. Lily gasped, horrified.

"You bloody tosser," James said, wishing he could be relieved of the confines of death just long enough to strangle the fraudulent wizard. He would be doing the entire Wizarding World a favor.

"Harry," Lily sighed helplessly.

It didn't take long at all for Lockhart to send Harry to Poppy Pomfrey after he messed up the healing charm. Lily was grateful he at least had the presence of mind to send Ron and Hermione with him. A few minutes later, once he was under the capable care of the mediwitch, Lily took a deep breath and allowed herself to relax. It was a good thing she was already dead, she thought, otherwise she would surely die of a heart attack with all the trouble Harry constantly got into.

James, who had been quietly watching the Healer tend to their son's injuries, shook his head, looking thoughtful and pleased. Lily looked at him, waiting. James glanced at her and smiled, looking away again. "That was some capture," was all he said.

Lily sighed but, in the end, couldn't help smiling as well.

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	9. Chamber of Secrets

**Hey guys! Sorry for the wait for this update. Finals and all are over now, so I am hoping to be able to update a bit more frequently until the Spring semester starts in January.**

 **Anyway, hope you enjoy this little chapter. I tried to do something a little different, rather than just have the same sort of thing happen with each time Harry faces Voldemort. Because he does that a lot. Let me know what you think!**

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"That poor girl," Lily said quietly as she and James listened in on the conversation taking place in Minerva McGonagall's office between Harry, Albus Dumbledore, the Weasleys, and Minerva herself. Meanwhile a confused Gilderoy Lockhart wandered around aimlessly. Harry recounted the events of his time in the Chamber of Secrets, though, she noticed, he was careful to avoid mentioning Riddle's diary or Ginny Weasley, who was still crying onto her mother's shoulder and at whom he kept casting concerned glances. "She had no idea what she was getting herself into. She must be so traumatized."

James hummed sympathetically, and then added after a second, "Probably embarrassed too, what with Harry of all people as the one to rescue her."

"At her age?" replied Lily, "I would have been mortified." Harry's parents, with the constant vigil they kept over their son, had not failed to notice the youngest Weasley's infatuation with him. Harry, in his innocence, seemed, if not ignorant, certainly clueless as to how to react to it.

The two listened for another minute as the truth of Riddle's diary was revealed to everyone present. Harry seemed immensely relieved at Dumbledore's support of his story. Surely he knew that not many others would be so readily open to such a tale. As it was, the rest of the adults present seemed quite flabbergasted, though they accepted it easily enough. Ginny finally spoke up and tearfully explained that she'd been writing to Tom Riddle all school year. Molly Weasley was understandably distraught, but Lily understood her anger. She felt she would have reacted similarly in her situation, if it had been her child.

Not that Harry didn't constantly find himself in enough danger of his own. Neither Lily nor James was quite over the incredible fear they'd experienced watching their son down in the Chamber. The thought that he had faced Voldemort for the second time in barely over a year was almost unthinkable. And that he'd defeated him on both occasions, well, frankly, James thought, he would not have believed it if he hadn't seen it happen for himself.

He had though. He'd watched Harry jump up at the news that Ginny had been taken into the Chamber and go after her. He'd watched his son risk his life for the sake of another. And, if he was honest, he was feeling quite proud. "Our boy's a hero, Lily," he said quietly.

Lily sighed but couldn't help smiling. She was, after all, exceptionally proud of Harry as well. "I know. I wish he wouldn't put himself in so much danger though."

"He's a Gryffindor," James said by way of explanation.

Lily cast him a sideways glance, "Yeah. I know."

"He hasn't died yet," said James, "I suppose he's doing something right." This wasn't mentioning, of course, the many times he had come very close. Less than an hour earlier, after all, he'd have died from the Basilisk venom if it hadn't been for Dumbledore's phoenix.

Lily could find no response to this and listened in again as Dumbledore announced that the Mandrake juice was being administered to the Basilisk's victims as they spoke. Both of them smiled at Ron's excited exclamation of, "So Hermione's okay!" Harry looked exceptionally relieved at the news himself. From here, Molly and Arthur left to bring Ginny to the hospital wing and Minerva, at Dumbledore's order, was sent to alert the kitchens to prepare a celebratory feast. At last, just Harry, Ron, and Gilderoy Lockhart remained.

Dumbledore then proceeded to award each of the boys two hundred house points and informed then that they would be receiving Special Awards for Services to the School. "That's my boy!" said James, laughing at the prime example of rule breaking for a great result.

When Dumbledore turned his attention to Lockhart and Ron hastily explained what happened, Lockhart responded, "Am I a professor? Goodness. I expect I was hopeless, was I?" Lily smiled, amused.

"Got that right," James said, laughing.

"Sit down, Harry," Dumbledore said after Ron was sent to take Lockhart to the infirmary as well. Harry seemed fine until Tom Riddle was brought up again. Then he seemed concerned.

"Professor Dumbledore... Riddle said I'm like him. Strange likenesses, he said..." Harry explained, seeming worried, as if he was genuinely concerned that was true. Lily's heart sank. Her poor, young, _good_ boy. Dumbledore, rather than reassure him immediately, asked his opinion on the matter. "I don't think I'm like him!" said Harry, rather loudly, "I mean, I'm — I'm in Gryffindor, I'm..." He trailed off then, appearing to realize something unpleasant. "Professor," he started again after a moment. "The Sorting Hat told me I'd — I'd have done well in Slytherin. Everyone thought I was Slytherin's heir for a while... because I can speak Parseltongue..."

"He's still doubting himself," James said with a sigh, and then proceeded to call Voldemort a rather nasty name for sowing those ideas in Harry's mind. As if the boy didn't have enough to deal with on a daily basis as it was.

"You can speak Parseltongue, Harry," Dumbledore explained calmly, "because Lord Voldemort — who is the last remaining ancestor of Salazar Slytherin — can speak Parseltongue. Unless I'm much mistaken, he transferred some of his own powers to you the night he gave you that scar. Not something he intended to do, I'm sure..."

"I never thought about it like that," James said, "I suppose that makes sense though. Lily just nodded, listening intently. She'd wondered about that ability of Harry's as well.

Dumbledore continued, explaining his theory that Voldemort had accidentally transferred a bit of himself into Harry when he'd killed James and Lily. Lily couldn't help feeling slightly appalled. She didn't want that monster anywhere near her baby, much less _inside_ him.

"So I should be in Slytherin," Harry concluded desperately.

"No!" James shouted, "No, you shouldn't!"

"The Sorting Hat could see Slytherin's power in me, and it —"

"Put you in Gryffindor," Dumbledore finished calmly, going on to explain that while Harry possessed some Slytherin qualities, the Sorting Hat had put him where he was. "You know why that was," he encouraged him, "Think."

Harry both looked and sounded defeated when he replied, ""It only put me in Gryffindor because I asked not to go in Slytherin."

"Oh, Harry," Lily said sadly. She'd had no idea he'd done that. She remembered hoping he wouldn't be placed there, but if that had been where he belonged, she would have been okay with it. But Harry was a Gryffindor through and through and he obviously loved being one. He'd spoken to the Sorting Hat those months ago, but hadn't seemed uncertain like he did now, but rather defiant.

Dumbledore, however, seemed exceptionally pleased with Harry's answer. "Exactly," he said, beaming, and explained that it was Harry's choice to be in Gryffindor that made him such, more than anything else. That this was what made him different from Tom Riddle. Lily had never been so thankful for the old wizard.

Dumbledore told Harry then about the sword of Gryffindor and what it meant that it had appeared to him when he'd needed it. "Only a true Gryffindor could have pulled that out of the hat, Harry," he finished simply.

Harry, if not completely convinced, seemed reassured. Dumbledore rose and crossed to Minerva's desk and Harry, taking his cue to leave, stood to exit. The door burst open before he reached it, however, to reveal a seething Lucius Malfoy, Dobby the house elf cowering at his heels.

The Potters proceeded to watch the events that followed, Lily in resigned interest, James in unashamed amusement. Both smiled widely, however, when Harry tricked Lucius into freeing the house elf. James was unable to contain himself at the look on the despicable man's face when he realized what had happened, and only laughed harder when Dobby defended his former master from harming Harry. "That's my boy!" he said. Lily just shook her head, but couldn't help feeling a bit pleased herself.

Harry was, it seemed, never going to stay out of trouble.

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	10. Remus Lupin

**Hey guys! I've had this update finished since yesterday and wanted to post it then, but something came up and I wasn't able to edit it until today. Sorry about that! I am hoping to get another few chapters posted throughout the next couple of weeks before my spring semester starts, so stay tuned for those!**

 **Also, very quickly, thank you so much to those of you who have followed/favorited this story, and especially to those of you who were kind enough to review. I genuinely do appreciate every bit of feedback you guys give and hope you continue to do so!**

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Harry, Ron, and Hermione entered the train's last compartment, stopping slightly short at the sight of the man asleep inside before continuing in anyway, apparently deciding they had no other option. Lily and James looked on as they took their seats, studying the man who was a stranger to them. In a perfect world, to Harry at least, he should have been anything but. Remus had known Harry since the day he was born. Had things gone differently, Harry would have known who he was straight away. Moony would have been "Uncle Remus." Instead, he had to learn who he was based on Hermione's observation of Remus' name on his case. Lily looked over at her husband, her emotions written clearly on her face. The sadness in James' eyes was unmistakable. He simply shook his head, his eyes not leaving the scene before them.

As the children reasoned out that Remus must be the new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, Lily couldn't help but agree with Ron's assessment that at first glance at least, Remus looked as though one good hex would finish him off. She and James had kept tabs on their friend since their death, as they had with Harry, and it didn't take a Seer to know that things had not been easy for Moony in the years since he'd lost his fellow marauders, and in ways that went beyond just the emotional. He didn't even know the truth about what happened that night, and that was probably the most heartbreaking part.

Harry and his friends, after determining that their new professor was, in fact, asleep, settled into he compartment as he explained about Molly and Arthur Weasley's argument and Arthur's warning that Sirius was after him. James and Lily knew better, of course, but there was nothing that could be done about the fear that had run rampant since Sirius had managed to escape. James supposed he was grateful for the Weasleys' concern for his son, unwarranted as it was. He knew Sirius well enough to know what he was really after, and it wasn't Harry.

James and Lily paid particular attention to Remus as the children discussed Sirius' escape. While he likely had been asleep prior to their entering the compartment, recovering from the full moon the night before, both knew he was only feigning sleep at this point, listening in on the conversation instead. Even if they hadn't known him as well as they did, his subtle change in position to hear better when the three weren't looking certainly gave him away. James couldn't help but smirk. Once a marauder, always a marauder.

He knew the exact moment Remus figured out exactly who it was sitting across from him in the compartment. He also knew that he had been impatiently waiting up until that point for one of Harry's friends to say his name. When that didn't happen, Remus had carefully opened one eye the tiniest bit and peaked at the faces of the teenagers before quickly shutting it again. James knew he recognized Harry immediately from the way he tensed just the tiniest bit. And with good reason, he supposed, as there was no denying that Harry very much resembled James. He wondered what his friend was thinking that very moment and decided it was likely something very sad. He felt for Moony, as well as for Harry, and all the opportunities the two had missed out on over the years because of the circumstances. It was the people he and Lily had left behind who were truly the victims of the story. Remus, Sirius, and Harry had all suffered immeasurably at Peter's betrayal. It truly wasn't fair.

Later, when Draco Malfoy and his cronies appeared in the compartment, picking a fight with Harry and Ron, Remus was the one who ultimately saved them from trouble. When Draco brought up Ron's family, as he usually did, the redhead stood up so quickly, he knocked Hermione's cat's basket to the floor. Remus, taking the opportunity, gave a convincing snort and shifted slightly in his feigned slumber, drawing the bullies' attention to him at last and effectively ending their harassment. James snorted in amusement. Lily was grateful.

Lily, and surly James as well, noticed Remus occasionally refraining from smiling at the conversation taking place in the compartment, but he did a good job of keeping a straight face and the children continued to pay him little attention as they continued on toward Hogwarts.

Then came the dementors. In the confusion and darkness, Neville Longbottom and Ginny Weasley joined the rest in the compartment. Remus, after nearly being flung from his seat at the train's sudden stop, got to his feet and glanced out the window after Ron and then turned, clutching for his wand in his robes. "Quiet!" he demanded, his voice slightly horse from misuse. The anxious questions and yelps of pain as the students fumbled over one another in the dark came to an abrupt halt. Silence reigned in the compartment. "Stay where you are," Remus ordered, lighting the space with the magical flame he'd conjured.

A dementor slid the compartment door open before Remus could reach it, and James and Lily lost interest as he proceeded to dispatch it, in favor of watching Harry in concern. The moment the creature appeared, he'd gone completely rigid and had fallen from his seat, his eyes rolling back and his body twitching epileptically. "Oh my god!" Lily cried in shock, "Harry!"

It was over rather quickly. Remus' patronus was able to rid the Hogwarts Express of the dementors within a few seconds and a minute later, as he returned to the compartment, the lanterns came back on and the train began moving again. Harry was on the floor, apparently unconscious. Ron and Hermione, the second they could see again, cried out in shock and knelt down beside their friend. "Harry! Harry! Are you alright?" Hermione said desperately. Ron slapped his face a few times. Neville, and Ginny looked on in shock, as did James and Lily. Remus seemed mildly concerned, but not overly surprised, which Lily would later find odd. At the moment she was rather preoccupied.

Harry came round pretty quickly and Ron and Hermione heaved him back onto his seat. "What was that?" James asked of no one in particular.

"Are you okay?" Ron asked him.

"Yeah," Harry answered, glancing quickly at the door. "What happened? Where's that – that thing? Who screamed?"

Harry's parents looked at each other in concern, as did his companions. "No one screamed," Ron answered his friend nervously.

"But I heard screaming-" Harry began to protest. The snap of the bar of chocolate Remus had just broken interrupted him.

"Here, eat this. It'll help," he said, handing some to Harry, and then to the rest of them. He answered Harry's question about what the dementor was as he did so, and then left to speak to the driver, leaving the students to discuss the event amongst themselves.

Harry had yet to eat the chocolate Remus had given him and looked rather ill as he inquired of his friends whether they'd fallen to the floor as well. He looked rather embarrassed when they told him that they hadn't. Lily looked to her husband, concern evident in her eyes. She knew from the expression written across James' face as he looked back that he was thinking the same thing. "Screaming?" she said, "You don't think…"

James shook his head, "I don't know. I hope not. I'd like to think he doesn't remember…"

"He was so young," she whispered, looking back at Harry.

"If there was any memory that was terrible enough, it would be that one though."

Lily shook her head, hoping against all hope that they were wrong; that what Harry had seen in the dementor's presence was not a memory of that fateful night, but some other, less horrible memory. Anything was better than that. She'd never experienced a dementor's effect in person before she'd died, but she knew what they did, and the thought that Harry had been made to relive the night of his parents' murders was almost too much to bear. She didn't want him seeing that. He'd seen too much at his age already.

She sighed sadly. "My poor baby."

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 **Thanks for reading!  
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	11. Shrieking Shack

**Hello! Happy new year!**

 **I'm so sorry for the wait for this chapter, even after I said I would be updating more during the break. I got busy with other things and completely forgot! I will be adding at least one more chapter before my classes start on Monday though. I promise!**

 **Not sure if this chapter seems rushed or not. I don't mean it to, but I didn't realize just how long this scene in the books was. I did my best to include all its parts without rewriting the chapter completely. Hopefully it's okay!**

 **Also, a quick disclaimer. I'm not sure if I mentioned this before or not, but as you probably know, these chapters, while they have some of their own dialogue, they usually include lines from the series as well. Most of the conversation happening between the characters other than James and Lily is JK Rolling's work and not mine!**

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"Sirius!" James yelled, "For Merlin's sake! Stop being so bloody cryptic!"

Sirius stood with Harry, Ron, and Hermione in the Shrieking Shack. "You killed my parents," Harry accused him, his voice shaking but his wand held steady in front of him.

"I don't deny it," Sirius said quietly.

"What!" James yelled.

"But if you knew the whole story," he added.

"Oh, Sirius, that isn't true. You know it isn't,' Lily said sadly.

James was livid. "You bloody idiot, Padfoot. Don't tell him that! Tell him you're not going to kill him. Your godson! Merlin's pants!" Lily placed a calming hand on his arm. The effect was minimal.

They were dead though and Sirius couldn't hear them. He was pleading with Harry to listen now. "You don't understand…"

"I understand a lot better than you think," Harry informed him shakily. "You never heard her, did you? My mum… trying to stop Voldemort killing me… And you did that… You did it…" Lily's heart broke for Harry all over again. The tears she'd been trying to prevent slid down her face now. This wasn't happening. It couldn't be. Not Harry. Not Sirius. She was grateful when Crookshanks jumped in between them.

This was all wrong.

Remus finally arrived then. "Thank God," she breathed as he disarmed the children. Moony would fix this.

Sure enough, he fit the pieces together quickly. The old friends embraced. It warmed Lily's heart and made James feel just slightly better. Moony was sensible. He would sort everything out.

Harry looked horrified. Ron and Hermione didn't look much better. Hermione was outraged, even as Remus tried to explain. "You—you—you and him—I didn't tell anyone! I've been covering up for you!" she cried.

Harry, broken out of his shock now, looked furious. "I trusted you!" he screamed at his favorite teacher. It was Remus begging him to listen now.

"NO!" Hermione screamed, "Harry, don't trust him, he's been helping Black get into the castle, he wants you dead too—he's a werewolf!"

Remus looked shocked, and as Hermione explained how she knew, he gave a laugh. Ron looked scandalized. Harry didn't seem to know what to think, especially when they were given their wands back and asked to listen.

Despite the circumstances, James found himself enjoying his son's reaction as he learned the truth about Remus and Sirius, the Map, and the cloak. His face was priceless. That changed quickly once Remus mentioned Scabbers.

Remus, against Sirius' wishes, insisted on explaining everything to the children first. James, however, agreed with Padfoot. They needed to take care of Pettigrew first. There would be plenty of time for explaining after, wouldn't there?

Even so, the students looked thoroughly unconvinced as Remus spoke. He pressed on, starting from the very beginning. The bite, the transformation, Dumbledore's efforts to allow him into Hogwarts. He told about the Whomping Willow and the Shrieking Shack, and how the Marauders came to be. He explained about the Animagi. Harry paid him rapt attention.

Sirius waited impatiently throughout the drawn-out account, his eyes never leaving the rat. He became slightly interested however at Remus' mention of Snape.

Whatever progress the two had been making with the children was halted immediately however when, of all people, Severus Snape revealed himself from under the Invisibility Cloak. Chaos descended then.

Snape was yelling. He wanted to turn Sirius in and drag Remus back to the school. Sirius was begging for him to listen about Pettigrew. Harry was yelling in Remus' defense and spectacularly insulting the potions professor. James and Lily watched, wide-eyed.

And then Harry disarmed Snape, knocking him out, and all grew quiet. James' eyebrows disappeared under his fringe. He gaped at the scene before them in shock.

Lily didn't know what to feel. Even now, her thoughts regarding Severus were so confusing, but she thought he had needed to be stopped right then. Just not necessarily at the hand of thirteen-year old Harry. "You shouldn't have done that," Sirius told him. She agreed.

"We attacked a teacher," Hermione squeaked, staring wide-eyed at Snape's unconscious form. "We attacked a teacher. Oh, we're going to be in so much trouble—"

"Thank you, Harry," Remus interrupted her, getting to his feet as Sirius unbound him.

"I'm still not saying I believe you," Harry informed him cautiously.

"Then it's time we offered you some proof. You, boy," he looked to Ron, "Give me Peter please. Now."

Ron hesitated. He demanded to know how Sirius was so sure his rat was really Pettigrew. Sirius removed the newspaper he'd been given in Azkaban from his robes, explaining. Harry listened but was still unconvinced, as was evidenced by his outburst. "And why did he fake his death?" he demanded furiously. "Because he knew you were about to kill him like you killed my parents!"

"No!" James cried out in frustration.

"No," Remus said. "Harry—"

"And now you've come to finish him off!"

"Yes, I have," Sirius said, glaring at the rat.

Lily sighed. "You aren't helping!" she groaned at their friend.

"Harry," Remus hurriedly spoke up, "Don't you see? All this time we've thought Sirius betrayed your parents, and Peter tracked him down—but it was the other way around, don't you see? Peter betrayed your mother and father—Sirius tracked Peter down—"

"THAT'S NOT TRUE! HE WAS THEIR SECRET-KEEPER! HE SAID SO BEFORE YOU TURNED UP. HE SAID HE KILLED THEM!"

Sirius was physically affected by the accusation. "Harry... I as good as killed them," he croaked.

"Sirius, no," Lily murmured, a lump in her throat.

"I persuaded Lily and James to change to Peter at the last moment, persuaded them to use him as Secret-Keeper instead of me... I'm to blame, I know it... The night they died, I'd arranged to check on Peter, make sure he was still safe, but when I arrived at his hiding place, he'd gone. Yet there was no sign of a struggle. It didn't feel right. I was scared. I set out for your parents' house straight away. And when I saw their house, destroyed, and their bodies... I realized what Peter must've done... what I'd done..." He turned away as his voice broke.

"Enough of this," Remus said, his tone suddenly steely. He told Ron stiffly to give him the rat and explained what he was going to do when the redhead protested. After another second's hesitation, Ron conceded and handed his pet over.

Together, Sirius and Remus transfigured Pettigrew back into his human form. As the men began to argue, Lily looked at Ron. He gaped at the man that had been his pet rat in blatant shock. He looked betrayed. She felt for him.

James, meanwhile, had paid close attention to the entire exchange. "Git," he growled as Pettigrew continued his spiel. It was nothing but lies.

Hermione broke in after a few minutes, trying to reason it out, as always. "If you don't mind me asking, how— how did you get out of Azkaban, if you didn't use Dark Magic?" she asked of Sirius.

Padfoot explained how he managed to do so; how he remained sane because the thought of his innocence wasn't a happy one and therefore could not be sucked out of him. How he'd transformed into a dog. How weak he'd been until seeing Pettigrew's picture and knowing he was so near to Harry had given him the strength he needed. How he'd slipped right out. "I journeyed north and slipped into the Hogwarts grounds as a dog. I've been living in the forest ever since, except when I came to watch the Quidditch matches, of course. You fly as well as your father did, Harry..."

He looked at his godson. "Believe me," he croaked. "Believe me, Harry. I never betrayed James and Lily. I would have died before I betrayed them."

Lily was crying. James was blinking back tears. Harry, clearly overcome with emotion, nodded. Finally. James exhaled hard. "Thank you," he breathed, pulling Lily close.

The mood lightened significantly then for all but Peter, and Sirius and Remus set to readying themselves to take care of him once and for all. Pettigrew, meanwhile, set to begging each child in turn for mercy, knowing he would receive none from the remaining Marauders.

They were about to cast their spells when Harry ran forward and placed himself between them and Pettigrew. "NO! You can't kill him. You can't!" Padfoot and Moony looked floored.

Harry suggested Pettigrew be brought to the Dementors rather than die at their hands. The vermin threw himself at Harry in gratitude, hugging his knees. "Get off me," he spat, throwing Pettigrew's hands off him in disgust. "I'm not doing this for you. I'm doing it because—I don't reckon my dad would've wanted them to become killers—just for you."

James, shocked, realized he was right. If anyone deserved death, it was Peter, but he didn't want his best friends to be the ones to do it. They didn't deserve that. Not after everything.

Harry was wide beyond his years and James was eternally grateful for it.

As James and Lily continued to watch, Pettigrew was bound and gagged. Dragging him and levitating Snape's unconscious form, the group made their way out of the shack and into the night. Everything was under control.

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 **Thanks for reading! I will probably include the events immediately following this in a separate update.  
**


	12. Patronus

**Hello lovely people!**

 **As you know, I don't normally update this quickly, but this scene has been on my mind since I posted Tuesday's update and I wanted to get it written. It's very short, but I hope you like it. Feedback is always appreciated! :)**

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"EXPECTO PATRONUM!" Harry bellowed at the last possible second and the huge, corporeal patronus burst from his wand tip. A brilliant silver stag.

"No way," James whispered, shocked. He'd known what would happen, had listened to Harry's account of what he'd seen to Hermione, of a wizard who'd looked remarkably like his father. He'd known Harry would succeed in creating a Patronus tonight. What he had not been prepared for, however, was for its form to be the same as his own. He was astonished.

Lily turned to stare at him. Her mouth hung open in a perfect 'O'.

"It's a stag," she murmured. " _Your_ stag." She was amazed that Harry shared a Patronus with his father, as well as the fact that he, at thirteen years old, had managed to produce a corporeal one at all.

James nodded mutely, watching as their son's stag galloped silently across the lake and charged the swarming dementors. It was Harry's first ever Patronus, but it was a powerful one and the dark figures stood not a chance.

It was strange, watching two Harrys simultaneously, even while they were able to follow both completely in real time. The perspective death allowed was amazing. James and Lily had watched both angles; the death and escape of Buckbeak, the events of the Shrieking Shack, the chaos that had descended on the motely group after leaving and Harry's and Hermione's attempts to escape it the second time around, the two of them crumbling next to Sirius under the dementors' attack and Harry's simultaneous successful attempt to save them all.

And they were amazed. More than anything else that had happened that night, _this_ was the most astounding of it all.

Harry watched, wide-eyed, as the dementors fell, one by one, to his magic and retreated back into the darkness. He squinted at the moving shape, clearly trying to identify it. Only once the dementors had all gone and the stag had turned and cantered back across the lake to where its creator stood was he successful in this.

And he looked like he didn't quite believe it himself.

Harry's face was blank with shock as the Patronus looked on him with silver eyes and then bowed its head. "Prongs," he whispered. He stretched his hand out as if to touch it, but the stag disappeared before he could. He was left frozen with his hand outstretched to nothing but the night air. He looked momentarily dazed until Hermione's approach with Buckbeak caught his attention.

"What did you do?" she demanded of him. "You said you were only going to keep a lookout!"

"I just saved all our lives...," Harry replied, unrepentant. "Get behind here—behind this bush—I'll explain."

True to his word, he did just that. Hermione listened with her mouth open in shock. "Did anyone see you?"

"Yes," Harry answered, a little exasperated, "Haven't you been listening? I saw me but I thought I was my dad! It's okay!"

His words were a bit of a hard pill for James and Lily to swallow; yet another reminder of how desperately Harry longed for his parents. He'd convinced himself that it was James who had produced the Patronus, and he'd believed it until he couldn't anymore. It was an assumption only slightly more reasonable than believing he'd seen himself, and only because he hadn't previously known about the existence of Time Turners.

Half an hour later, Sirius and Buckbeak were airborne and heading far from the Hogwarts grounds. Harry watched them go for as long as they were in sight, obviously trying not to be too disappointed. Sirius had been his one chance to get away from the Dursleys and James and Lily knew only too well how badly he wanted it. That chance was gone now, and Lily, though she knew her sister's was the safest place for Harry to be after what she'd done, mourned the loss along with him.

Sirius was alive though, and no longer in prison. Admittedly, he was a wanted fugitive on the run, but it was better than the alternative. James and Lily took what little comfort they could from that.

Together they watched as Harry and Hermione rushed to get back to the hospital wing in time, and for the first time that night, despite everything that had happened, everyone they loved was safe again.

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 **Thanks for reading!  
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	13. First Task

**Hey, guys! Sorry for the wait on this. Its been a whirlwind of a few weeks.**

 **These chapters all seem kind of rushed to me when I read over them before posting, but I'm not really sure how to fix that or if you guys feel the same way. Do you? If so, any suggestions to fix it would be welcome!**

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"This is insane," murmured Lily as she looked around at the display before them, at the stands, the crowds and reporters. "I can't believe they're letting him do this. It's absolutely crazy. _Dumbledore_ should—"

"He can't do anything," James reminded her soothingly from behind her. He placed a hand on each of her arms in support. He didn't feel all that much calmer than his wife clearly wasn't, but he was deciding not to let her know that right then. "You know he would if he could."

Lily shook her head, even as she said, "I know." She was happy for James' contact. "I know, it's just, he's _fourteen._ And these are _dragons_. Real, live ones. And he's _fourteen_! There's a reason they put an age limit in place!"

"Harry's a great flier," James reminded her, "You know that. And his Firebolt is fantastic. You know once he's got that, it's over. It's a solid plan."

"It's not _that_ plan I'm worried about," Lily replied, wincing as Fleur Delacour's dragon set her skirt on fire. She thought about the burns Cedric Diggory had sustained from his own. She didn't want her son anywhere near this tournament. "He's not starting off with his broom."

"He knows _Accio_. Hermione worked with him. He got it last night. You saw it."

"Exactly," Lily said, "He learned it _last night_. He's far from mastered it. What if he forgets? Or makes a mistake? He could _die_ , James!"

James sighed and pulled her nearer to him. He didn't respond for a moment, and then decided changing the subject was best. "You know, you've grown quite panicky in your old age. You never used to worry this much. What happened to the fearless Prefect who used to break curfew with me in Seventh Year?"

Lily glared at him. She wasn't in the mood for this. Not with Harry so close to probable death. How was he so _calm_? "We had a son who comes close to dying far too often," she answered, " _That's_ what happened."

James shook his head in mock sorrow, though he paid close attention to Viktor Krum as he charmed his dragon blind, "They said having a child changes you," he said in half-hearted mournfulness, "It's a shame."

Lily shushed him and the two watched in silence as Krum finished his task and the dragon keepers reigned in the angry Chinese Fireball. Harry was next.

James tried not to let it show as Lily was already worried enough, but he _was_ nervous. She was right—there was a reason the Triwizard Tournament now had an age restriction. Even for a wizard of age, angering live dragons was not a safe task and Harry had drawn the fiercest of them all. He had no doubt that their son would be fine once he had his broomstick in hand. It was just the matter of getting that way that had him worried. Harry had worked tirelessly with Hermione the day before and well into the predawn hours learning the Summoning Charm and James hoped desperately that that newfound skill wouldn't fail him now. Harry's life depended on it.

When Krum's dragon had been swapped for Harry's and the arena was reset, Ludo Bagman made the dramatic introduction and Harry was brought out. He made it a few steps into the arena and then stopped, looking around, assessing his surroundings. He was quite obviously scared. The Horntail was at the opposite end from where he stood, guarding her eggs protectively and eyeing Harry unceasingly. There was whooping and cheering, as well as jeering from the gathered crowds, but Harry seemed oblivious to it all. Wisely, his eyes never left his task. He braced himself, and then raised his wand and shouted, " _Accio Firebolt!_ "

The crowd quieted a great deal, murmuring now instead of shouting. Inquiring of each other just what the youngest champion had said, what spell he'd used. Ludo Bagman commentated, but Harry's voice was not amplified and he obviously had no more idea than anyone else. They looked on in curiosity. Ron and Hermione, seated together in the stands, looked pale and terrified.

Harry waited, obviously trying for confidence in his charm work. He seemed to grow more nervous by the second.

Lily's heart was in her throat. Her eyes never leaving the angry dragon, she fumbled blindly next to her for James' hand and, upon finding it, gripped it for all she was worth.

They knew, before the crowds or Harry did, that he had indeed been successful. James let out a whoop of relief and a moment later, Harry turned quickly toward his approaching savior, relief crossing his own features. "It's a broomstick!" Bagman cried, informing the spectators, "He's summoned a broomstick, and quite a nice one at that. A Firebolt. _Very_ nice!"

Harry paid the man no attention. He mounted his broomstick and took to the air. The crowds cheered, watching in anticipation. "Okay," Lily murmured to herself," He's okay." James pulled her closer.

The moment Harry's feet left the ground, his Firebolt carrying him up and away from the chaos of the ground, all his worry seemed to vanish. He seemed suddenly confident and in control like none of the champions before him had quite managed to. James found himself smirking.

"Okay," Harry murmured to himself, "Diversionary tactics… Let's go," and James smiled wider. It was a Quidditch game now, and if his son could do anything, it was play Quidditch.

He dived. The Horntail tracked his movement and shot fire at him, but Harry was quicker. "Great Scott, he can fly!" Bagman crowed as the crowd went wild.

"You bet he can," Lily muttered, her malice for the man unchecked in her tone.

They continued to watch as Harry soared dizzyingly above the dragon. It continued to follow him and sent yet another bolt of flame his way. This time, Harry wasn't able to get away completely unscathed. Lily's breath hitched as the claw came in contact with his shoulder, but he shook it off and continued on. It wasn't very serious. She exhaled; taking what comfort she could from that, at least.

The crowd was less concerned with Harry's wellbeing and was unhappy, some because Harry hadn't evaded the dragon completely, and some because the bloodshed had only been minimal. James was disgusted.

Harry zoomed back around the beast and then seemed to realize something. From there, his maneuvers seemed more planned and calculated. James soon saw his plan, and his negative opinions of the spectators ceased to matter. "Yes!" he cried, "Yes, that's brilliant! He's trying to get her to fly!" Lily nodded, her eyes never leaving their son. She could tell as much, but didn't find it all that worth celebrating at the moment.

Harry continued to taunt the dragon and she was again thankful he was such a fantastic flier. The skill had saved him more than once.

Finally, his plan succeeded. The dragon, apparently having enough, reared suddenly and spread her giant wings as if to take flight. She didn't have the time, as Harry was already moving. He dove down under her before she realized what was going on and was already out again before she had time to do anything about it, golden egg in hand.

Lily's jaw dropped and she almost sobbed in relief. James laughed almost manically in surprise at just how quickly it was all over.

The crowds exploded.

"Look at that!" Bagman yelled, "Will you look at that! Our youngest champion is quickest to get his egg!"

"Of course he is!" James cried, his grin splitting his face, "That's my boy! My son! Set up to be killed and _still_ beating the odds! Take that, you—"

"James!" Lily quieted him. She was thrilled Harry had succeeded, of course, and happy to see the smile that crossed his face now as the Horntail was reined back in and he came in for a landing. She was happy to celebrate along with her husband now that Harry was out of the woods for a bit. But she still wanted to hear what was happening.

Harry met his waiting professors at the entrance to the enclosure. "That was excellent, Potter!" Minerva McGonagall cried as he dismounted his broom. James quite agreed. She diligently directed him to the medical tent for his injuries and Harry, smiling at the compliments from Hagrid and the Imposter Moody, quickly conceded to her wishes.

James and Lily were reserving worrying about the traitor serving as the Defense teacher for the time being in favor of simply seeing Harry through his tasks—James found that dwelling on it did him no good, as he would have liked nothing more than to strangle the man with his bare hands for deliberately endangering his son the way he had, and since that was neither appropriate nor possible, he did his very best to think on other things. And also, worrying about Harry—more important anyway—was in and of itself a full-time job.

With the excitement done and over with, Lily found herself exhausted. Not physically, as death didn't allow for such things, but emotionally. She dropped to the ground and, resting her elbows against her knees, placed her head in her hands. "I swear," she murmured, "If I wasn't already dead, I would have died ten times over by now with all the stress that boy puts me through." James chuckled, watching less attentively now as Poppy Pomfrey tended to Harry's shoulder. "I'm serious," she added, glancing up at him, "It's a wonder I don't have gray hair, even in death."

James sat himself thoughtfully beside her. "Well," he said, "He _has_ survived it all, so I suppose there's something to be said for that." Lily glared at him. He smirked, and then sighed, sobering. After a moment's silence, he added,"I just wish we could be there for him."

Lily sighed now, watching Harry again as he deliberately disobeyed the mediwitch's orders to sit down and rest a moment. "Believe me, I know."

Harry's friends met him at the tent's entrance. Hermione looked almost as worse for wear as Lily felt. She owed a lot of people for looking out for Harry over the years, and it seemed Hermione Granger, if she wasn't already, needed to be added to that list as well. Bless her. Today would have played out very differently without her.

"Harry, you were brilliant!" she said, her voice enthusiastic if not slightly weak, "You were amazing! You really were!" Harry, though he obviously heard her, was looking at Ron.

The redhead was pale and shocked-looking as he stared back. "Harry," he said very seriously, "Whoever put your name in that goblet—I—I reckon they're trying to do you in!"

Harry took this stoically. "Caught on, have you?" he responded coldly, in a manner Lily might have disapproved of under other circumstances. Now, however, she felt Ron deserved this response. He had been truly terrible to Harry. "Took you long enough." Ron looked uncertain at this and Hermione, standing between them, appeared nervous. The poor girl. Ron opened his mouth to speak, obviously intending to apologize, but Harry stopped him. "It's okay," he said, "Forget it."

"No," Ron spoke up, "I shouldn't've—"

" _Forget it."_ James was both proud and slightly disgruntled at that. He didn't think he would have let Ron off so easily, but then Harry was a more forgiving person than he had been himself at fourteen.

Ron grinned nervously now and Harry smiled back. All was forgiven.

Hermione promptly burst into tears, which instantly sobered both of them. They looked at her and then each other in bewilderment. "There's nothing to cry about!" Harry told her.

She glared at them. "You two are so _stupid_!" she yelled, stamping her foot. She then promptly hugged the both of them and turned away. She stormed out in hysterics. The looks on the boys' faces were priceless and Lily couldn't help herself.

She started laughing.

Boys. Even her boy. They were all simply hopeless.

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 **Thanks for reading!  
**


	14. Graveyard

**Hey guys! The wait was a bit longer than I wanted for this update, but this scene was a lot harder to write out than I anticipated. Sorry about that!  
**

 **This chapter is, however, pretty long compared to most of the others, and I actually have almost 1,000 words of the next chapter written already. I was going to include the whole graveyard scene in one chapter, but it ended up way too long and I wanted to get this up for you. SO, the next part of this scene will be in the next chapter, part of which is already written. So stay tuned for that. :)**

 **Otherwise, I hope you enjoy. Feel free to let me know your thoughts!**

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James and Lily knew the Cup was a Portkey long before Harry and Cedric limped together toward it. The knowledge only served to make watching it happen scarier.

"On three, right?" Harry asked his older companion.

Lily could only stare on in horror. "No," James moaned, "Don't do it." Lily's breath hitched at the boys reached together toward the cup, but there was no stopping what was about to happen and the two watched in terrified fascination as the Triwizard Cup grew suddenly bright and vanished, taking both boys with it.

In death, Lily and James had the ability to go with them, which might have been a curse just as much as it was a blessing. Still, they went and saw, an instant later, both boys make impact with the solid ground of the graveyard. As one, they lost their footing at the violent arrival.

They got up quickly, confused at the unexpected change in their surroundings. Cedric suggested they take their wands out. It was a stellar idea and Harry looked relieved he'd suggested it. James and Lily were as well.

Peter Pettigrew made his way toward them, through the graveyard and its throng of headstones, carrying the abomination in his arms. James ground his teeth at the sight, outraged, and yet beneath the overwhelming anger he still harbored hurt. This was Peter Pettigrew, the clumsy boy who'd idolized James and his friends and had been with them so faithfully for years. Right up until he wasn't.

Harry saw him first and both boys stayed where they were, watching the cloaked figure approach. Pettigrew was still a good distance away from them when, without warning, Harry bent double and was suddenly on the ground, his hands to his face, cradling his head in a fetal position upon the hard ground.

This was likely a small mercy, even with the incredible amount of pain he was clearly in, because in the next second, the thing that was Voldemort had thrown back the cloak that wrapped him and killed Cedric Diggory with a wave of his wand.

"No!" Lily gasped in shock and outrage, and then proceeded to send an array of colorful language at the evil wizard. And James made no move to stop her, as he could only stare at body of the boy who'd been so good to Harry in the tournament. A young man, barely more than a child; gone, just like that. Another life ended too soon at the hand of Voldemort. The rage that had filled him at the sight of Peter was nothing compared to what he felt now. He was seeing red.

Harry vomited a split second after Cedric's body hit the ground, though whether it was from the pain in his head or the body of his ally hitting the ground beside him, Lily wasn't sure.

Propped feebly on his hands and knees, Harry did not move when he finished, but seemed to brace himself. Slowly he opened his eyes, tear-filled and anguished, and stared into Cedric's newly dead ones. He stayed that way only so long as it took Pettigrew to set Voldemort down and cross to him before he was being yanked brutally up and backward, led to the gravestone of Tom Riddle.

Harry struggled as Pettigrew bound him to the stone. Pettigrew hit him. Lily gasped in outrage. Harry did too, having realized finally just who he was dealing with. "You!" he cried in indignation.

Pettigrew ignored him, finished his work, and then gagged Harry. If James' body had worked the same way in death as it had in life, he would have been trembling in rage by now. Not to mention fear.

Because he knew what was happening, and it wasn't looking like Harry would make it out this time.

Harry gave up struggling; it was a lost cause, and instead settled to looking around while Pettigrew moved out of his sight, preparing further for the event. Harry's eyes fell on Cedric's body and rested the for a second before he looked beyond him, at the Triwizard Cup still lying on the ground where they'd dropped it upon arrival. Lily could see the gears turning behind her son's eyes and she knew he knew the cup could get him out of there.

It was a great idea except for that fact that he was inescapably bound.

She didn't know how she was still watching.

But watch she did. She and James saw all of it. The cauldron, Voldemort, the open grave, Pettigrew's hand—Harry, thank Merlin, had had the sense not to watch _that_ happen, though it was of little comfort in the grand scheme of things.

They watched Pettigrew, panting still in his own pain, draw the dagger and drive the blade into Harry's arm. Watched as he collected the blood that dripped down their son's arm. Watched as he then poured it into the cauldron and watched as the potion turned a brilliant white.

Watched as Voldemort rose again.

Lily burst into tears. James wrapped her tightly in his arms and she clung to him desperately, likely unaware in that moment just how desperately he held her back. "No," she sobbed into him, the fabric covering his back gripped firmly in her fist "Not again. He can't… Harry—He'll—He's not safe now. All we did… Everything he's— _Harry!_ "

"I know," James murmured, fighting against the tears of anguish threatening to spill from his own eyes. And he did know.

All they'd done. All they'd died for. Everything Harry had suffered. It was all for nothing now. Voldemort was back and he'd used Harry's blood to do it. He wasn't safe anymore. Voldemort could touch him, could do whatever he wanted to him. He'd surely kill him before the night was through.

It was all for nothing.

They were vaguely aware of Voldemort's following words as he beckoned Peter to him. The appearance of the Dark Mark in the sky helped bring James violently back to reality as it send painful shivers down his spine. Lily had yet to look up from his shoulder and he was grateful. She didn't need to feel this too.

He focused instead on Harry. Harry, who had been through so much and had done the unthinkable, who, even at just fourteen was wise and good beyond his years; Harry, who knew exactly what Voldemort's return meant, was looking grimly at his enemy, terrified.

Voldemort was talking now, taunting him. Speaking about his family, entertaining himself at Harry's expense. James was almost thankful when the Death Eaters arrived and he all but forgot about Harry. For a while at least.

Then came time for Voldemort to demonstrate his newfound power. He crossed lazily to Harry's side and, with all eyes one him, explained about the Boy Who Lived. About Lily's sacrifice, and the ramifications of that sacrifice. The closer he grew to Harry, the more their son's pain obviously intensified. He looked to be trying hard not to cry out. Voldemort was unfazed, pleased even. "His mother left upon him the traces of her sacrifice," he continued, "This is old magic, I should have remembered it, I was foolish to overlook it… But no matter. I can touch him now." And touch him he did, pressing a finger right to Harry's face, which crumbled under the agony of it. Voldemort laughed.

Lily had stopped crying now and watched again with James, feeling as hopeless as he looked. "This is really it," she whispered in dismay. James' arm, still on her waist, tightened around her. The thought broke her heart into infinitely small pieces.

It would have been one thing for Harry to die tonight. It would have destroyed her, yes, but she would have seen her baby again and selfishly she knew it wouldn't have been all bad. But if Voldemort was alive again, it cancelled out everything she, James, and the rest of the Order had done before their death. It nullified everything Dumbledore had done in the time since. It discounted all of Harry's efforts. It destroyed everything.

Now, not only would Harry die far too young, but Voldemort was free to wreck havoc upon the world she loved all over again. It was _all_ for nothing.

She didn't listen to Voldemort's account. She didn't want to. But when he cast the _Cruciatus_ on Harry, it was almost too much to bear. A shattered squeak sounded from her throat and tears again flowed free from her eyes, but she didn't look away. James grabbed her hand and held tight, and she knew in that moment that he needed her support just as much as she needed his.

It killed her that this was how Harry was to die; in excruciating pain as the plaything of his enemies, the victim of the war he'd been dragged into and the scapegoat for the actions of his parents even before his birth. How could she ever have let this happen to her boy? What kind of mother was she? It was her fault Voldemort was so interested in him and her fault that he was back now. If and when Harry died tonight, how could she ever face him knowing she did this to him, to all of them?

James knew she was struggling but he could do nothing to help her. The despair he felt in watching Voldemort's interactions with Harry was too much. It couldn't end like this.

He was, however, brought up short when Harry's wand was returned to him. It was the last thing he'd expected.

Pettigrew untied Harry and for a split second, James saw in his eyes the idea of running. Beautiful as the option was, it was impossible and Harry knew that as well. He was forced to comply.

Voldemort mocked him as he instructed him to duel. It was obviously the last thing Harry wanted to do, but he had no choice as the dark wizard imposed his will on him with magic and literally bent him to his will.

"Very good," Voldemort said softly, raising his wand and releasing Harry from his power, "And now you face me, like a man… straight-backed and proud, the way your father died." James scowled at the words. "And now—we duel."

Voldemort had only just raised his wand when Harry was already on the ground, writing in pain under the _Cruciatus_ once more. James felt sick. The dark wizard grinned maniacally at his torturous game for a few moments before lowering his wand. Harry's body relaxed and he got quickly but shakily to his feet. He staggered into the nearby throng of watching Death Eaters, who pushed him brutally back toward Voldemort, who spoke now, excited.

"A little break, a little pause… That hurt, didn't it, Harry?" he mocked patronizingly, "You don't want me to do that again, do you? Harry glared, weak but defiant, and said nothing. The action filled James both with pride and fear. Voldemort, his voice still soft but growing in force, continued, "I asked whether you want me to do that again. Answer me! _Imperio!_ "

Lily sighed helplessly. Voldemort was apparently running through the Unforgivables one by one; she had no doubt he was saving the best for last. At least the _Imperious_ curse caused Harry no physical pain. She wasn't sure how much more of the _Cruciatus_ she could take.

Harry struggled visibly against the powerful magic, which alone was impressive. Very few people could resist a well-cast _Imperious_ curse at all. So it was even more impressive when, after a long few seconds of internal battle, Harry yelled, "I WON'T!" His words echoed through the graveyard and the Death Eaters, who had been laughing and enjoying themselves a great deal up until this point, grew abruptly silent.

"You won't?" Voldemort asked now, his voice still even, "You won't say no? Harry, obedience is a virtue I need to teach you before you die… Perhaps another dose of pain?" Lily groaned in horror as he again moved to lift his wand toward her son, but this time Harry was ready. He dove out of the way and rolled behind Tom Riddle's gravestone a millisecond before the curse hit. The granite cracked on impact as it missed him.

"We are not playing hide-and-seek, Harry," Voldemort drawled coldly, drawing closer to his father's grave. The Death Eaters laughed pathetically. "You cannot hide from me," he went on, "Does this mean you are tired of our duel? Does this mean that you would prefer me to finish it now, Harry? Come out, Harry… come out and play, then… it will be quick…it might even be painless…I would not know…I have never died…" James could not withhold the profanity that escaped from his mouth at this. How dare he. How dare that monster mock Harry that way, _his son_. How dare he. It absolutely enraged him.

Harry crouched down behind the stone as Voldemort grew nearer still. His expression was one of defeat. He knew the end had come. "Don't you dare, Harry," Lily said firmly, watching even while tears streamed down her face. "Don't you dare give up. Not like this."

"He won't," James said, his teeth clenched, "He would never let Voldemort win that easily. He'll get up. He'll want to die on his feet."

"He shouldn't be dying at all," she said softly, even while she knew they were well beyond that. Harry was fourteen; he should have had a long life ahead of him, but if he didn't, and he clearly did not, she wanted it to be quick and painless. She didn't want him to make the situation any worse. But she agreed with James. Voldemort could not win so easily. Harry couldn't give him the satisfaction of dying on the ground like that.

And James was right. A mere second before Voldemort could stick his snakelike face around the gravestone, Harry stood up, his wand gripped tightly in his hand, and threw himself out from behind the stone, before Voldemort with his wand outstretched, and even in death, the world stopped.

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 **Thanks for reading!  
**


	15. Shadows

**Hey guys, here's part 2 of the graveyard scene. Enjoy!**

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Voldemort, of course, was ready, but so was Harry, and while the former cried, _"Avada Kedavra!"_ Harry shouted _"Expelliarmus!"_ simultaneously.

James blinked, taken back for a moment in surprise. _Expelliarmus_? The disarming spell? Of all the spells at his disposal, Harry had gone with a completely harmless, elementary charm?

He didn't have time to dwell on it. The deadly jet of green light that shot from Voldemort's wand was met halfway by the red light from Harry's. Harry's body went rigid at the contact, his wand arm visibly vibrating, and he looked surprised but not at risk of letting go. The midpoint of the two spells turned a deep, bright gold, and Voldemort experienced the same effect Harry did.

Then, the incredible magic lifted the two from the ground and carried them to a grave-less patch of grass. James and Lily gaped together at the scene in identical states of shock as the golden thread connecting Harry and Voldemort splintered and spread outward, encasing them in a cage of light.

The Death Eater cronies meanwhile ran after them, shouting in distress, asking for orders and nearly tripping over themselves and each other in their haste. It would have been greatly amusing had it not paled in comparison to the standoff occurring between Harry and Voldemort.

Voldemort, wide-eyed himself, shouted at them not to do anything. "Do nothing unless I command you!"

Harry was struggling more to hold on now. His wand hand shook slightly under the strain, and the beads of light in between them began inching toward him. It grew nearer and nearer and his wand vibrated ever harder. He concentrated then, hard. He looked almost angry as he forced the beads slowly to a halt and then, slowly but surely, sent them back in the opposite direction, toward Voldemort. Suddenly it was no longer Harry who was struggling to keep control of his wand. Voldemort looked astonished, and for a brief moment, despite everything, Lily almost dared to hope.

But closer and closer the beads grew to Voldemort's wand tip and eventually, amazingly, they made contact. James and Lily stood, wide-eyed and transfixed. The dark wizard's wand immediately began smoking and screaming, echoing cries of fear and pain. A smoky replica of Peter Pettigrew's hand flew from it and vanished. What followed was even more surprising.

Little by little, Voldemort's wand gave birth to a shadowy figure of Cedric Diggory. The figure stood up and said distantly, "Hold on, Harry."

James was openly gaping. Lily's mind was moving fast. Neither of them had ever seen magic like this, but Lily had been well versed in charm work in her day. She'd never seen anything like this but she thought she remembered…

" _Priori Incantatem,"_ she said aloud.

James looked at her in confusion and then looked back at the scene before them, his bewilderment turning to surprise. He zeroed in on Cedric's ghostly figure again as it was joined by the figure of the old man Voldemort had murdered in cold blood. Even now, the wand, still emitting echoing cries of pain and screams of fear, was ejecting another figure. This one turned out to be Bertha Jorkins, another recent victim of Voldemort. "Don't let go, now!" her voice echoed, "Don't let him get you, Harry—don't let go!"

Voldemort's expression grew more and more fearful with the appearance of each victim.

Harry looked shocked and unsure as he looked between the new arrivals. He didn't seem to know what to make of them. James and Lily looked on silently. Both knew what would happen next; whose shadow would follow Bertha's from the wand tip. Voldemort, after all, hadn't had the chance to kill all that many people since. Lily wondered if it would help or further hinder Harry's situation.

Harry, still gripping his own wand firmly with shaking hands, stared at the next smoky figure emerging from the tip of his opponent's. It was plain on his face that he knew, just as well as his watching parents, who he would be seeing next.

Lily's shadow fell to the ground as it was expelled from the wand. It stood quickly and looked right at Harry, who seemed frozen at the sight even while his arms shook worse than ever. "Your father's coming," the shadow-Lily said softly, "Hold on for your father… it will be alright… hold on…"

Lily Potter, meanwhile, watched her son for any sign of weakness at the sight, but his grip remained solid, even while emotion played across his face. It was strange seeing this shadowy replica of herself on the same plain as Harry, so close to him and visible, even while she was stuck beyond the veil and impossibly separated.

Just as Shadow-Lily promised, James' ghostly figure appeared from the smoke a moment later. It too straightened and stepped close to Harry. It spoke softly to him, and James was startled at his replica's behavior, for he was completely separate from this figure, and yet it spoke and acted so much like he himself did, and said and did now what James himself would have, had he really been there in the graveyard.

"When the connection is broken," the shadow said softly, its echoing voice inaudible to the shocked Voldemort across from them, "we will linger for only moments… but we will give you time… you must get to the Portkey, it will return you to Hogwarts… do you understand, Harry?"

"Yes," Harry gasped, struggling more than ever to keep hold of his wand.

"Harry," whispered Cedric's smoky figure, "Take my body back, will you? Take my body back to my parents…"

"I will," Harry assured him, his voice strong even with the strain his face showed in his effort to hold on.

"Do it now," James' shadow said, "be ready to run… do it now…"

Harry wasted no time in complying. "NOW!" he yelled, and jerked his wand upward, breaking the golden thread connecting it to Voldemort's wand. The golden cage surrounding them vanished and the five shades converged on Voldemort, who looked momentarily more scared than ever, before rage quickly replaced the other emotion on his face as Harry ran for Cedric's body.

" _Stun him!"_ Voldemort cried, even while he struggled to fight off the smoky figures of his victims.

Mere feet from Cedric, Harry dove behind a nearby marble angel to avoid the jets of red light shot at him from the Death Eaters. The wing of the statue shattered as the spells made impact, but Harry was unharmed. He wasted no time in moving forward. _"Impedimenta!"_ he shouted, casting the spell in their direction as he darted out from behind the angel and sprinted again toward his dead friend. His spell made contact with a short Death-Eater standing on the end of the group and he yelled in outrage as he hit the ground. His fellows continued after Harry without him.

Harry reached the cup, but surpassed it to get to Cedric. He dove out of the way as spell after spell continued hitting around him. Some he avoided only by sheer luck. He dived to avoid another jet of light, his arm outstretched to Cedric's wrist as he hit the ground.

Voldemort, freed from the shadows' attack now, rushed after Harry. "Stand aside!" he shrieked at his followers, "I will kill him! He is mine!" A single tombstone stood between him and his prey.

For a split second, Harry looked cornered. He looked between Cedric's body and the cup a few feet away, before looking back at Voldemort, who was still approaching. The dark wizard smiled an evil smile and raised his wand toward him.

Then Harry moved, pointing his wand not at his approaching enemy, but at the Triwizard Cup. _"Accio!"_ The cup flew instantly into Harry's outstretched hand.

Voldemort screamed in fury as the cup glowed instantly blue and Harry disappeared from the graveyard, taking the body of Cedric Diggory with him.

James and Lily saw him land back in the maze of the Third Task back at Hogwarts, though they watched from a distance as the crowds converged on him now, Dumbledore ahead of the rest.

"I… don't believe it," James said, shocked. He was overjoyed, sure, but there was no way Harry should have ever gotten away this time.

Lily, beside him, dropped to the ground and sat with her face in her hands. It was a purely living response to such a wide array of changing emotions, but she didn't know how else to react. The relief she felt was so overwhelming. And then she was laughing. "He… he's—alive!" she gasped.

James, laughing with her, dropped down beside her, took her face in his hands, and kissed her long and hard. "He's alive," he said, smiling as he rested his forehead against hers, "Merlin's pants, he's alive."

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 **Thanks for reading!  
**


	16. Dumbledore's Army

"I can't believe they're really going through with this," Lily said, caught somewhere between wariness and veneration, as she and James watched the students gather in the Room of Requirement.

James, beside her, was grinning like a child in Honeydukes who'd been told he could get as much candy as he wanted. "I don't think I've ever been so proud," he said.

She looked sideways at him. "You realize they could be caught at any time by that monster and probably expelled?"

"That's the best part. They're like their own Order of the Phoenix! And our boy is leading it!"

Despite herself, Lily smiled. It was her job as a mother to worry about her child, but she couldn't deny she was just as proud of Harry as James was. After all, they'd both been actively involved in the fight against Voldemort before their deaths and now Harry, in spite of the risk, was just as committed to that cause. How could she not be proud?

She didn't have to reply for James to know her thoughts on the matter. The smile on her face was answer enough.

Harry locked the door of the room and moved to the front of the gathered students. They waited, respectfully silent, and listened while he spoke about the Room of Requirement, occasionally quieting for the contributed comments from Fred Weasley and the question from Dean Thomas regarding the dark detectors, which Harry answered with surprising confidence.

When silence fell again, he continued. "Well, I've been thinking about the sort of stuff we ought to do and—er—" Hermione's hand had gone up. "What, Hermione?"

"I think we ought to elect a leader," she said.

"Harry's leader," Cho Chang put in quickly, as if that were obvious. Lily smiled. Harry had liked Cho for a long time and it seemed she was finally reciprocating the feeling, which made her happy. Harry needed a little bit of normal in his life.

"Yes," Hermione replied, "But I think we ought to vote on it properly. It makes it formal and gives him authority. So—everyone who thinks Harry ought to be our leader?"

Every hand went up. It was a satisfying sight.

"Er—right, thanks," Harry said awkwardly, blushing. "And— _what,_ Hermione?" She had her hand up again. Lily smirked in amusement.

"I also think we ought to have a name," the young witch continued, unabashed, "It would promote a feeling of team spirit and unity, don't you think?"

James was laughing. "I love that girl."

"Can we be the Anti-Umbridge League?" Angelina Johnson suggested, looking hopeful.

"Or the Ministry are Morons Group?" Fred put in, eliciting a few chuckles.

Hermione shot both down in favor of a more obscure name.

"The defense Association?" said Cho, "The D.A. for short, so nobody knows what we're talking about?" Harry looked appreciative of that, though, James noted in amusement, he was unfairly biased.

"Yeah, the D.A.'s good," Ginny Weasley critiqued, "Only let's make it stand for Dumbledore's Army because that's the Ministry's worse fear, isn't it?"

"Now, _that_ is a good idea," James said approvingly.

"All in favor of the D.A.?" Hermione asked, running the show and sounding, as usual, much older than her sixteen years. Many hands went up. "That's a majority—motion passed." She pinned the piece of paper she held with everyone's names to the wall and wrote _Dumbledore's Army_ across the top in large print. Harry, still standing before everyone, watched in silence, mildly amused, until she was seated again.

"Right," he said, "Shall we get practicing then?" He suggested _Expelliarmus_ as a starting point. "I know it's pretty basic but I've found it really useful—"

He was rudely interrupted by Zacharias Smith. "Oh _please_. I don't think _Expelliarmus_ is exactly going to help us against You-Know-Who, do you?"

"I've used it against him," Harry replied calmly, his voice quiet, "It saved my life last June." Smith was struck dumb. Silence reigned. "But," he continued, "If you think it's beneath you, you can leave." James snorted.

"That's right, Harry," said Lily, "Don't let him speak to you like that!"

When no one moved, Smith included, Harry spoke again, trying for confidence under the weight of the eyes on him. "Okay. I reckon we should all divide into pairs and practice."

He partnered with Neville Longbottom, who was left the odd man out. At Harry's command, the room was filled with shouts of the Disarming spell. Many missed, hitting items around the room. He sent his own spell toward Neville, whose wand went flying from his hand and hit the ceiling. Harry retrieved it swiftly with a Summoning Charm and handed it back, glancing around as he returned to his spot. He looked more confident now, clearly noticing how much practice his new students obviously needed. Starting with _Expelliarmus_ had been a wise choice.

While he was distracted, Neville attempted the charm on him and succeeded in sending a surprised Harry's wand flying. "I DID IT!" the former cried, "I've never done it before—I DID IT!"

"Good one!" Harry said encouragingly in what was obviously the very mature decision not to point out that Neville would not have such a conveniently distracted opponent in a real duel. He suggested he trade off practicing with Ron and Hermione so he could walk around and assess the rest of the class.

The students were quite respectful of Harry, and as they would with any professor in an actual class, they grew serious and tried much harder when they sensed his eyes on them. James and Lily wore identical smiles as they looked on.

Fred and George, however, rather than practice the charm, were unsurprisingly taking the mickey out of a frustrated Zacharias Smith, sending Silencing Charms at his back and inhibiting him from casting the Disarming Charm on his partner. George apologized hastily when Harry caught them, which Lily found amusing. From what she knew of the twins, rare was the occasion they apologized for anything.

After finishing his lap around the room, Harry stopped at the front again and, after a few unsuccessful attempts at regaining attention, wished a whistle into existence in the room and used it to regain silence in the room. "That wasn't bad," he said, "But there's definitely room for improvement." Zacharias Smith glared at that, which he ignored. "Let's try again."

Spells once more began firing and Harry circled the room once and then again—careful each time to stay a good distance away from Cho Chang and her partner. The quality of the spellwork gradually improved all around.

Eventually, Harry, as a responsible leader, had no choice but to go to where Cho and Marietta Edgecombe stood practicing. The moment Cho saw Harry, she transformed instantly from a promising student to a fumbling mess and set her friend's sleeve on fire with her wand.

James couldn't help it; he burst into laughter at the sight. "What a heartthrob," he managed. His amusement only grew at the conversation that passed between them.

"You made me nervous! I was doing all right before then!"

"That was quite good," Harry obviously lied. Lily laughed now too. At the look on Cho's face, he quickly changed the story. "Well, no, it was lousy, but I know you can do it properly, I was watching from over there…" Marietta turned away from the two, disgusted, but his parents were greatly amused.

James thought back to the Yule Ball Harry had been forced to endure last school year and the absolutely woeful skill he'd shown with women at the time. He thought maybe that was changing for the better. He wasn't sure Cho Chang was exactly the right type of girl for Harry, but a wizard had to start somewhere and he could do much worse.

Hermione, ever the voice of reason, eventually inquired about the time. They had run well over, and with the time and date of the next meeting quickly set, everyone left the Room of Requirement and dispersed to their respective common rooms. The first D.A. meeting was finished and was quite a success.

Harry, Ron, and Hermione were, of course, the last to leave. The latter two argued the whole way, but Harry seemed in another world, a content smile on his face as they walked.

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The meetings continued in the coming weeks and with each passing lesson, the students improved more and more; mastering spell after spell, some with surprising speed. And every time they did, Harry swelled with pride in his friends, which his parents enjoyed seeing.

Their son was, it seemed, a natural leader, and James and Lily were incredibly proud.

If only Harry knew how much.

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 **Thanks for reading!**


	17. Lifetime Ban

**Hey guys! Sorry for the wait for this update. Things have been busier lately than I think they ever have...! This update is a bit shorter than normal, but I wanted to get something posted for you guys. I'll try to post something with a bit more plot soon. Until then, I hope you enjoy!**

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"So… I really think I will have to ban these two from playing Quidditch ever again," Dolores Umbridge said happily, looking between Harry and George Weasley, who stood in Minerva McGonagall's office. Minerva herself stood between the boys and Umbridge and had been staring at the smaller woman in annoyance. At this proclamation, her eyes widened in horror as her expression turned to one of disbelief.

James wasn't sure he'd heard correctly. _"What?"_

As for Harry and George, they looked like they were wondering the same thing. "Ban us?" Harry asked hollowly, "From playing… ever again?"

"Yes, Mr. Potter, I think a lifelong ban ought to do the trick," Umbridge answered, smiling ever wider as the comprehension and horror dawned on the boys' faces.

" _What?"_ James shouted, outraged, "For a _fight?_ She can't do that!"

Lily sighed, sad for their son, "She can though." Honestly, after everything, she couldn't even say she was that surprised. The woman was a monster.

"You _and_ Mr. Weasley here," Umbridge continued, "And I think, this young man's twin ought to be stopped too—if his teammates had not restrained him, I feel sure he would have attacked young Mr. Malfoy as well. I want their broomsticks confiscated, of course; I shall keep them safely in my office, to make sure there is no infringement on my ban. But I am not unreasonable, Professor McGonagall," she said, turning to look at the taller witch now, "The rest of the team can continue playing, I saw no signs of violence from any of _them_." She cast another accusatory glance toward the boys and then looked back at Minerva. "Well… good afternoon to you." She turned and swept from the room, looking most pleased with herself and leaving the others to stare after her in horror.

Silence reigned in the office for almost a minute, and then George Weaseley spoke up, calling Umbridge a wide variety of unpleasant names.

"Sorry, Professor," he added when he finished, glancing toward Minerva.

She simply shook her head and shrugged at the apology, and Lily got the distinct impression that she agreed wholeheartedly with her student's assessment and only refrained from voicing such herself on the premise of professionalism and respect for her place.

Harry looked like his world had been ripped out from under him, and that broke Lily's heart. Quidditch was one of the few things their son genuinely enjoyed when so much else about his life was difficult and dangerous. And now he'd lost it.

Not that he didn't deserve some repercussions for his reprehensible behavior on the pitch, no matter the circumstances, but a lifetime ban, by any standards, was a bit unreasonable.

"I'm sorry, Professor," he said now, looking at Minerva with regret in his green eyes.

"So am I," was Minerva's response. She sighed, "I was looking forward to another championship this year and now Gryffindor's lost three of its best players." She leveled her gaze on her students, "I hope this teaches you both something about the importance of controlling your temper." Her tone was not angry as her words might have implied, but disappointed.

"Yes, Professor," the boys mumbled together with heads hung.

She stared at them for a second in a way that Lily could only describe as motherly as they continued to study the floor. "Off with you then," she said at last, "Get yourselves cleaned up before dinner."

Harry and George were quick to obey and made their way from the office as one.

James had watched the entire exchange in silence. He was fuming. Not at Harry or George for their actions, nor Fred, for he'd done worse things during his time as a student, and the Slytherin brat deserved far worse than he got for his mouth.

"This is absurd," he said now as they watched the boys make their way dejectedly back to Gryffindor Tower, "Harry's the best Seeker in that school. And those twins are great Beaters. Gryffindor doesn't stand a _chance_ now."

"I think that's the point," said Lily. Dolores Umbridge's ulterior motives weren't exactly hidden in her actions.

James, his teeth set in anger, just shook his head. "This is the last thing Harry needs right now." Lily only sighed but he knew they were in agreement there.

"He'll be okay," she offered softly.

"Well of course he'll be okay. He's Harry Potter. It just isn't fair!"

Lily eyed him. "Love, I think you're more upset by this than Harry is."

"I am!" He took a deep breath, and then, calmer, said, "He just can't catch a break."

"He can't," Lily agreed, "But he still has the D.A." Skeptical and worried as she'd been at first at the idea of the students' secret society, it had turned out to be a genuinely good idea. The members enjoyed it and improved every day, and Harry absolutely thrived. He seemed more than comfortable as a teacher now and clearly enjoyed the time he spent doing it. He made her very proud. "And bad as this Quidditch ban is for him, he'll be able to focus more on that at least. He won't be completely without distraction."

James nodded. "That's true." He paused and then added, "I just hope those kids learn enough for it to be worth it. I'd love to see them stick it to that Umbridge woman some day."

"I don't think that's the reason they're doing it…"

"I know that. Obviously I want to see Voldemort's head on a platter. There's no question, but I hope that woman gets what's coming to her as well."

Lily didn't reply, but she agreed wholeheartedly. She didn't consider herself all that violent of a person, nor did she James, but there was only so far one could push a family before justice was needed, and after all that Voldemort, and now Umbridge, had put Harry through, even without their own deaths factored in, Lily wanted nothing short of severe punishment for the both of them.

And she hoped that day came sooner than later.

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 **Thanks for reading!**


	18. Date Gone Wrong

**Hey guys. I know it's been forever and a day since I've updated this story. I know I'm awful and I'm sorry. However, I'm on summer break now, so I'm hoping to update regularly again. I'm going to _try_ for once a week.**

 **Anyway, please enjoy this update that I enjoyed writing a lot. :)**

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"When did we reach the point in our relationship where we have nothing better to do on Valentine's Day than spy on Harry and his date enjoying theirs?" James inquired, turning his eyes on Lily.

"It's his first date, James," she answered, "Don't you want to be there for it?"

"Well sure but I'd like some time with my wife today as well."

"You get nothing but time with me," Lily smirked and then looked at him, "And we have the whole day."

"Yeah, okay." He paused and then asked, "Do you really think Harry would appreciate us spying on him on a date like this?"

"It's his first date, not his wedding night." James couldn't argue with that logic and he wasn't sure he wanted to. Harry was, after all, his son, and even if he couldn't be there in person to help him through the struggles that were teenage relationships, at least looking on allowed him to keep up with him from afar.

Harry and Cho walked together from the Hogwarts gates and down the long drive, surrounded loosely by a throng of other students headed that way. They struck up a conversation about Quidditch of all things, which Lily found amusing if not surprising. She wanted Harry to be happy of course, but she did fear that he and Cho had very little in common aside from the sport. It was his first attempt at dating however and it was something everyone had to learn to navigate themselves. She just didn't want to see him get hurt.

Harry's confidence seemed to grow as the conversation carried on and the two of them neared the end of the school's long drive. This was short-lived however, as right then he and Cho were passed by a group of girls from Slytherin who laughed and pointed at the unsure couple, mocking and sneering at them. Lily ground her teeth slightly, watching. She remembered dealing with Slytherin girls during her own time at Hogwarts, but watching them taunt her son was much worse than faring herself had been. James, beside her, shook his head in annoyance. As if first dates in school weren't awkward enough already.

The girls left an uncomfortable silence in their wake as the wind appeared very quickly to leave Harry's sails and neither he nor Cho seemed to know what to say. They walked in silence the rest of the way into Hogsmede.

"So… where d'you want to go?" Harry asked finally as they entered the wizarding village.

Cho answered awkwardly, "Oh… I don't mind." She shrugged. "Um… shall we just have a look in the shops or something?"

The two wandered along the cobblestone streets, crowded with fellow students, toward Dervish and Banges. A group was gathered near the store's window and Harry and Cho, obviously curious, moved to see what was going on. The students allowed them room to see the Ministry wanted poster showing the ten escaped Death Eaters from Azkaban and the ten-thousand galleon reward offered to anyone with information about them.

"It's funny, isn't it," Cho observed softly, examining the moving images of the Death Eaters, "Remember when that Sirius Black escaped, and there were dementors all over Hogsmede looking for him? And now ten Death Eaters are on the loose and there aren't dementors anywhere…" She trailed off.

"You don't say," James said dryly.

"Yeah," was Harry's response as he looked quickly away from the poster to glance up and down the street thoughtfully as if observing this phenomenon himself, "Yeah, it is weird…" He didn't sound all that surprised.

The two left the storefront and continued down the street as dark clouds rolled quickly in and heavy rain began falling. Neither looked to be particularly enjoying themselves.

"I'd say this isn't going particularly well," James said, cringing slightly at the scene. Lily felt for the two but didn't comment.

"Um…" Cho spoke up as the rain fell harder, ""D'you want to get a coffee?"

"Yeah, all right," Harry replied, looking around and sounding as grateful for something to do as for the opportunity to get out of the rain. "Where—"

Cho brightened instantly, "Oh, there's a really nice place just up here, haven't you ever been to Madam Puddifoot's?"

Lily's eyes widened in sympathy for her son as she remembered that place from her own school days. She had never been one to exactly dislike femininity and frill, but Madam Puddifoot's was far too ridiculous for her taste, and most definitely for Harry's. Beside her, James groaned, "That's a bad idea." He'd made the mistake in fourth year of taking a girl there, having heard it was a good place for couples. He thought he was being romantic at the time. It had been a right nightmare.

Cho led Harry excitedly toward the coffee shop. "Well," said Lily, "At least they'll get out of the rain."

James snorted. "I think Harry will wish he'd stayed and got wet." Despite herself, Lily's answering sigh of sympathy turned into a laugh at her son's expense. Poor Harry.

The teenagers reached the entrance quickly in their haste to get out of the weather. Harry followed Cho through the door and faltered slightly in the entryway, taking in the sheer pinkness of the inside with apprehension and unpleasant surprise. He was lucky Cho was behind him and could not see the expression on his face before he could school his features. James burst out in laughter.

"Cute, isn't it?" Cho asked Harry happily, which only made James snicker harder.

"Don't laugh at him!" Lily scolded, even while she tried to keep from smiling herself.

"Er… yeah," was Harry's reply.

"Look, she's decorated for Valentine's Day!"

"Aaah…" James was still laughing. Harry's reactions were not helping at all. Lily broke now and smiled as well. She felt bad for their son but the situation was quite funny and he would surely laugh about it himself one day, right?

The coffee shop was full to bursting with young couples, most of who were engaged in some public display of affection. Harry and Cho sat down at the last remaining table, the former looking around nervously as if concerned he would be expected to act similarly. Clearly he was hoping not to.

Cho ordered them each a cup of coffee and the two sat in extremely uncomfortable silence as they waited. Harry seemed unwilling to look his date in the eyes and his face seemed to grow hotter by the second.

"Merlin, I can't watch this," James said, shaking his head, "It's painful."

"I doubt Harry will be getting a second date with her," Lily commented, "Unfortunately."

James looked at her, "What's unfortunate about that?"

Lily smacked him. "James! Harry likes her!"

He raised an eyebrow and glanced back at the two. He knew what it looked like for a young wizard to like a witch and this was not it. Which was fine. As far as James was concerned, Harry could do better than Cho Chang. After all, there was more to a girl than Quidditch skill, and anyway, there were plenty of other witches who played at Hogwarts. "If you say so."

A few more excruciating minutes passed between them before Cho spoke up, mentioning Umbridge. Harry rose gratefully to the occasion of abusing her, but there was only so much that could be said before the silence fell again. The couple sitting at the next table over had been locking lips quite passionately for some time now and Harry looked to be uncomfortably aware of this fact.

In an apparently desperate attempt at a subject change, he spoke again and dug himself quite a large hole in the process. "Er… listen, d'you want to come with me to the Three Broomsticks at lunchtime? I'm meeting Hermione Granger there."

Lily gasped. "Don't tell her that! Not like _that_!" James groaned.

Cho's eyebrows rose almost to her hairline. Her voice was slightly steely when she replied, "You're meeting Hermione Granger? Today?"

"Yeah. Well, she asked me to, so I thought I would. D'you want to come with me. She said it wouldn't matter if you did."

James closed his eyes and sighed long and hard. " _Woeful_ skill with women. Downright awful."

"Oh… well… that was nice of her," Cho answered after a pause, sounding as if it were anything but. Another long and unpleasant silence commenced.

"Well this can't get much worse, can it?" James asked of no one in particular.

"Poor Harry," Lily murmured.

"Sirius needs to teach that boy a thing or two about talking to witches," said James, "I can't do it, so it's his job. And he's failing spectacularly."

The minutes dragged on and the silence was as thick as ever. Harry drank his coffee quickly, so quickly that Lily feared he would burn himself. Cho's hand lay on the table beside her own cup and he eyed it nervously, obviously attempting to gather his courage and take hold of it. Just as he moved to do so, Cho sat back and removed her hand, and Harry was forced to cover up his intention by grabbing the sugar bowl. James sighed, trying very hard not to wince. This was his son, after all, and that fact made watching so much worse.

Cho's eyes were on Roger Davies and his girlfriend making out at the next table. She looked mildly interested. Lily figured she knew pretty well what the younger girl was thinking and it was not in Harry's favor.

"He asked me out, you know," she informed Harry quietly, "A couple of weeks ago. Roger. I turned him down, though." Harry did not appear to know what to do with this information. He said nothing and was about to finish off his drink when the Valentine's Day cherub decoration over their table threw a handful of gold confetti over them. Some of it landed in his coffee cup and Harry set it down awkwardly. "I came here with Cedric last year," Cho tried again. Harry froze.

"What is it with these kids?" James wondered allowed, "Is it not common knowledge that you don't bring up other people on a date?" Lily just shrugged. She had no idea what would happen now.

Undeterred, Cho went on, "I've been meaning to ask you for ages… Did Cedric—did he m-m-mention me at all before he died?"

Harry looked, if it was possible, even more uncomfortable. With a quick glance at the happy couples surrounding them, he answered, "Well—no—there—there wasn't time for him to say anything. Erm… so… d'you get to see a lot of Quidditch in the holidays? You support the Tornadoes, right?" His painfully rough transition was not taken well and he looked quite panicked when Cho's eyes filled with tears. "Look," he said, sounding desperate now. He leaned in to allow them some semblance of privacy, "Let's not talk about Cedric right now… Let's talk about something else…"

This was not received well at all.

In full hysterics now, Cho spoke through her tears. "I thought… I thought _you'd_ u-u-understand! I _need_ to talk about it! Surely you n-need to talk about it t-too! I mean, you saw it happen, d-didn't you?"

Her outburst had drawn a few stares now and Harry looked more horrified than ever. "Well—I have talked about it," he tried in a whisper, "to Ron and Hermione, but—"

"No," murmured Lily.

"Oh, you'll talk to Hermione Granger!" Cho cried shrilly, drawing even more stares, "But you won't talk to me! P-perhaps it would be best if we just… just p-paid and you went and met up with Hermione G-Granger like you obviously want to!"

Harry stared, dumbfounded, as she wiped her wet face with a napkin. "Cho?"

"Go on, leave!" she said, crying more, "I don't know why you asked me out in the first place if you were going to make arrangements to meet other girls right after me… How many are you meting after Hermione?"

"It's not like that!" Harry explained and then, apparently in realization at the cause of her anger, laughed. This, not surprisingly, was the wrong thing to do..

Cho sprang to her feet. "I'll see you around, Harry," she said, hiccupping, and turned for the door, leaving him to stare after her in shock.

"Cho!" he called as the door swung shut and every eye in Madam Puddifoot's was on him. In the total silence of the place, he left a Galleon on the table to cover their drinks and followed after her out into the rain. He did not find her there and simply stood for a second, bemused, before sloshing down the rain-soaked cobblestone, muttering angrily to himself. He set course for the Three Broomsticks and broke into a run, hunched over in the heavy rain.

Lily and James watched the whole scene in silence. Neither had expected things to go quite that badly.

"Well," said James, "That… went well."

Lily shook her head. "They were probably doomed from the start. That poor girl is way too unstable."

"No kidding."

"I hope Harry doesn't take it too hard. He's got enough to worry about as it is."

"He's young; he'll be fine," James replied, "And he can do better. Even without the Cedric situation, I don't think she's right for him. Too sensitive."

"Oh?" asked Lily, "And if I did agree with you, who exactly did you have in mind?"

"I don't know," he said, "That's up to Harry. I'm just saying he needs a girl with a bit more resilience if she expects to be able to keep up with him."

"That's a tall order at their age."

James shrugged. "Maybe. But I bet Ginny Weasley could do it. That girl's tough as nails. And she's liked Harry since just about the dawn of time."

"James, she's his best friend's sister."

"All the more reason to pick her."

Lily raised an eyebrow at her husband. "And she's dating that Michael boy, isn't she?"

"You just watch," James said, unconcerned, "I bet it's only a matter of time."

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 **Because I love the idea of James shipping Harry and Ginny long before they are ever a thing. :)  
**

 **Thanks for reading and for sticking around despite my infrequent updates recently. I promise I'll be better. See you soon!**


	19. Beyond the Veil

**Hey guys! New update for you.**

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Harry had been about to hand over the prophecy to Lucius Malfoy to save Neville from Bellatrix Lestrange's Cruciatus when the Order of the Phoenix showed up in the Department of Mysteries' Death Chamber. James had never been so grateful to see old friends locked in battle with Death Eaters, annoyed as he was at his inability to do anything but watch as it unfolded around him.

There was a lot going on and everything happened very fast. Tonks fired a Stunning Spell at Malfoy, giving Harry and Neville an opportunity to escape. They didn't get far before Harry was grabbed by Walden McNair. He struggled against the Death Eater's grip, but it was Neville who came to his rescue, jamming Hermione's wand hard into McNair's eye, causing the dark wizard to howl in pain and release the Potters' son. Harry stunned him but was quickly cornered by Dolohov, who hit Neville with a Dancing Feet Spell and attempted to incapacitate Harry as he had Hermione. Thankfully, Harry's Shield Charm protected him from the worst of it. Sirius intercepted the two before Dolohov could summon the prophecy and Harry stunned his most recent attacker before he could attempt harm to Sirius.

"Thank God," Lily breathed, even if Harry's salvation was only temporary. If anyone could keep her son safe, it was Sirius.

"Nice one!" Padfoot complimented his godson, pushing him down just as more spells flew toward them. "Now, I want you to get out of—" He cut off as they both ducked again, this time to avoid a killing curse that narrowly missed Sirius' head. Across the room, Bellatrix sent an unconscious Tonks tumbling down the stone steps lining the room and ran toward the battle again. Sirius, already moving to meet her, called behind him, "Harry, take the prophecy, grab Neville, and run!"

Harry didn't have time to argue one way or another as he ducked out of the way of Kingsley Shacklebolt's duel with Rookwood and dodged another jet of green. He launched himself toward Neville and the two struggled to obey Padfoot's command. They made very little progress on account of the Dancing Feet jinx and they quickly toppled backwards, Harry with his left arm aloft in an effort to protect the glass ball.

Lucius Malfoy was on top of them again. "The prophecy, give me the prophecy, Potter!" He held Harry down and dug his wand into his ribcage.

"No—get—off—me …" Harry struggled, "Neville, catch it!" He flung the prophecy across the stone floor and Neville miraculously caught it. Malfoy pointed his wand at Neville. _"Impedimenta!"_ Harry yelled and blasted the Death Eater backwards. He crashed into the dais where Sirius dueled Bellatrix and lifted his wand toward Harry. Remus Lupin jumped between them.

"Harry, round up the others and GO!" He shouted, sending spells flying toward Malfoy. Harry continued struggling up the stairs with Neville's uncooperative legs. The latter, struggling to help his friend even as he sank to the ground, stuffed the glass orb into his robe pocket.

"Come on!" Harry sounded desperate, "Just try and push with your legs and—" The seam of Neville's robes tore open then and the prophecy fell to the ground, only to be kicked ten feet through the air by Neville's wildly flailing feet. Both boys watched, aghast, as it smashed on the step below them and the smoky figure within appeared, spoke, and vanished. It was far too loud in the room, even if anyone else had noticed, for aany of them to hear its words.

Neville apologized as vigorously as his broken nose would allow for his blunder but Harry, clearly prioritizing his losses, brushed him aside. "It doesn't matter! Just try and stand, let's get—"

Neville interrupted him, his eyes transfixed on the figure that had appeared behind Harry. _"Dubbledore!"_

"What?" Harry asked, turning to look behind him even before his friend repeated their headmaster's name. From the look of relief that flashed across Harry's face, he believed they were truly saved.

James was more optimistic as well. "Yes!" he cried.

The duels taking place throughout the room stilled to a stop as the Death Eaters became aware of Albus Dumbledore's presence. Many yelled out to each other, some froze where they stood. One fruitlessly attempted to get away and was quickly and efficiently prevented from doing so. Only one battle remained as Sirius and Bellatrix continued their dance of wands and spells, apparently unaware of the new arrival. As the room watched, Sirius ducked out of the way of his cousin's jet of red light. He was laughing. "Come on, you can do better than that!" he yelled, his voice echoing in the now quiet room. Looking furious, Bellatrix followed up with a second jet of red light.

James and Lily knew what would happen even before it made contact with their friend's chest. Lily gasped as, almost in slow motion, the Stunning Spell flew toward Sirius and he failed to evade it. The spell hit him square in the chest and sent him toppling backward, right through the veiled arch in the center of the room.

Lily's hand covered her mouth as she watched. James, beside her, fell to his knees. "No, no, _no_!" He cried. They watched together for a moment, Harry, screaming his godfather's name as he ran toward the Veil himself, worried only for a second before Remus intercepted him, grief written plainly on his own face, and wrapped his arms tight around Harry, holding him in place and looking like he might never let go.

"There's nothing you can do, Harry—"

"Get him, save him, he's only just gone through!"

"It's too late, Harry—"

As one, James and Lily turned and looked as, a little ways away from them, Sirius appeared, landing on his back on this side of the Veil with them, from the spell that had knocked him backward on the other end. He got up quickly, scanning his surroundings not thoroughly enough to notice his friends looking at him, before his eyes fell on the scene he'd just left, Moony holding for dear life as Harry struggled against him. "There's nothing you can do, Harry…" Remus said, "Nothing…. He's gone."

"No," Sirius murmured to himself, looking shocked. He looked down at himself and quickly around again before dropping to his knees and staring, wide-eyed, at the near-family he'd left behind.

"He hasn't gone!" Harry yelled, defiant, "SIRIUS!" he roared, "SIRIUS!" Remus held fast to him, clearly struggling to contain his own grief, while Kingsley continued battle with Bellatrix and Dumbledoore moved throughout the room, efficiently rounding up the Death Eaters.

Lily turned with tears in her eyes, her son's haunted cried tearing at her heart, and began walking toward where Sirius knelt, still oblivious to her and James' presence. James rose and followed her. Nothing could be done on his part to help Harry right now, but the same wasn't true of his best friend.

"He can't come back, Harry," they heard Lupin say to their grieving son, his own voice breaking, "He can't come back because he's d—"

"HE—IS—NOT—DEAD!" Harry bellowed, "SIRIUS!"

"I'm sorry, Harry," Sirius said, his eyes still glued to the scene and tears streaming down his face, "I'm so sorry. Moony…"

Harry had stopped struggling now and looked lost as Remus dragged him carefully away from the dais. Grateful for that, Lily turned to Sirius again and laid a gentle hand on his shaking shoulder. He stiffened slightly and stood, wrenching away, before he caught sight of them and froze. He looked between them in seeming awe, his mouth slightly open. Then he looked away, his eyes downcast and his lips slightly trembling, even as he tried to fight it. "I'm so sorry," he whispered.

James and Lily exchanged glances and then he reached out and grabbed his best friend's arm. "It isn't your fault, Padfoot," he said, and when Sirius looked up, James embraced him. Sirius returned the hug with equal fervor; two friends reunited after far too long.

Lily stood watching, tears running down her face, as the two men held onto each other. When they finally let go, Sirius turned to her and wrapped her in an embrace as well. "I tried to protect him," he said to her, "From the very first night, I tried."

"I know you did," she said, pulling away and looking up at him, "And I can't tell you how grateful I am." James nodded his agreement.

Sirius sighed but said nothing, turning to look at Harry again. His expression was sad, but accepting. "He deserves so much better."

"He loved you so much," Lily told him.

Sirius nodded, not looking away. "He'll be okay," James added.

"I don't doubt it," Sirius replied, "Harry's tough as nails."

"It'll be hard," Lily said softly, "But Remus will be there for him." James nodded, putting an arm around her. He knew that was true and he hoped having Harry would have a similar effect on their friend. Losing Sirius was undoubtedly a huge loss for Moony as well. But if anyone could do it, it was him.

They were all silent a moment, and it was Sirius who broke it first. "Yeah…" he said in half a sigh, and then added, "Who'd've thought Moony'd be the last one of us left."

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 **This was way harder to write emotionally than I thought it'd be. Hopefully I did the scene justice. I'll probably post a part 2 with the Voldemort possession scene soon.  
**

 **Thanks for reading.**


	20. Atrium

**Hello!**

 **Nothing much to report with this chapter other than that it's the second part of the scene in the Ministry and I hope you like it!**

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It shouldn't have been surprising that the ordeal wasn't over yet. Their son was Harry Potter after all.

Remus had gotten Harry away from the dais with the archway and the Veil, and stood next to him by the steps now, a loosened grip on his arm now that the boy was no longer struggling against him. It wasn't his fault that Harry wrenched suddenly from him now in pursuit of Bellatrix Lestrange. Remus couldn't have known what was to happen.

Sirius was with James and Lily still. They'd told him he was free to go on without them. He was under no obligation to stay and watch over Harry, but he'd hung around so far. Eventually, when things calmed down a bit, he'd probably wander around and explore a bit, but in the meantime he wanted to see the night's events through.

He was the first to speak up when Harry took off, bellowing, "SHE KILLED SIRIUS! SHE KILLED HIM—I'LL KILL HER!"

"Harry, no!" Sirius yelled, "For Merlin's sake!" James just sighed beside him, if not resigned to his son's antics, certainly used to them.

Harry chased the dark witch from the Death Chamber and wound up trapped in the rotating room when the door to the corridor Bellatrix took slammed shut behind her and the walls immediately began rotating. "Where's the exit?" he shouted desperately to no one in particular, "Where's the way out?" As if the room had heard his cries, it stopped spinning and the door now directly behind him flew open. Without hesitation, he took off down it. He wound up in the lift and chased her up to the Atrium, where he dodged a spell cast his way and crouched behind the large fountain in the larger room.

Bellatrix approached him threateningly now, taunting, _"Come out, come out, little Harry!"_ Lily's skin crawled with loathing for the woman that few others could cause. "What did you come after me for, then?" she continued, "I thought you were here to avenge my dear cousin." Sirius, standing next to James, growled under his breath.

"I am!" Harry shouted from his hiding place, his voice echoing around the room.

" _Aaaaaah_ … did you _love_ him, little baby Potter?"

Just like that, Harry was moving again. He jumped out from behind the fountain and flung his wand out, yelling, _"Crucio!"_ with more hatred than his parents had maybe ever heard from him. It was a truly terrible thing, but a small part of James hoped fervently that the teenager truly did hate the woman enough for the spell to work.

It was solid enough to knock Bellatrix off her feet, but not to do anything more. Harry was simply too good to effectively use such a terrible curse. She recovered and rose again quickly, sending him once hiding behind the fountain's base, her counterattack barely missing him as it bounced off the wizard statue, decapitating it. "Never used an Unforgiveable Curse before, have you, boy?" she demanded, no longer employing the infuriating child's voice, "You need to _mean_ them, Potter! You need to really want to cause pain—to enjoy it—righteous anger won't hurt me for long—"

"If only," James muttered.

"I'll show you how it is done, shall I? I'll give you a lesson—" Harry had been edging out from his spot again, but ducked quickly away again as she screamed, _"Crucio!"_ and the fountain's centaur statue took the hit, spinning off and crashing to the floor. "Potter, you cannot win against me!" Harry circled away from her behind the fountain, apparently using her voice as a gauge for where she was. "I was and am the Dark Lord's most loyal servant, I learned the Dark Arts from him, and I know spells of such power that you, pathetic little boy, can never hope to compete—"

" _Stupefy!"_ Harry yelled, having edged around the fountain enough to allow himself an opening as the witch looked for him where he'd previously been.

Bellatrix blocked the spell with time to spare and sent the Stunning Spell right back at him. Harry scrambled for cover once more. Lily gasped at the close call but said nothing as she and the men watched.

"Potter, I am going to give you one more chance!" Bellatrix shouted at him, "Give me the prophecy—roll it out toward me now—and I may spare your life."

"Yeah, and I might be named Minister of Magic," Sirius grumbled, looking at his cousin with the deepest hatred.

"Well, you're going to have to kill me, because it's gone!" Harry bellowed, his face suddenly contorting with pain.

"And he knows!" Harry roared, laughing madly now, "Your dear old mate Voldemort knows it's gone! He's not going to be happy with you, is he?"

"Wait," Sirius asked, looking to his friends in surprise, "Is he serious?" They nodded, aware that he had not noticed the globe fall from Neville's pocket and shatter against the floor before he'd crossed over to them. They saved the explanation for later.

"What?" Bellatrix demanded, "What do you mean?"

"The prophecy smashed when I was trying to get Neville up the steps! What do you think Voldemort'll say about that, then?" His face was still contorted with pain Lily knew came from his scar. Tears streamed from his eyes.

"LIAR!" Bellatrix exploded more from terror, Lily thought, than from anger now, "YOU'VE GOT IT, POTTER, AND YOU WILL GIVE IT TO ME— _Accio Prophecy! ACCIO PROPHECY!_ "

Nothing happened and Harry laughed at her. "Nothing's there!" he shouted, "Nothing to summon! It smashed and nobody heard what it said, tell your boss that—"

"No!" she screamed heinously, "It isn't true, you're lying—MASTER, I TRIED, I TRIED—DO NOT PUNISH ME—"

"Don't waste your breath!" Harry yelled at her angrily while Lily's breath caught at the figure that appeared before the two. Harry, who had his eyes closed tight as he curled in on himself against the obvious pain in his head, didn't notice. "He can't hear you from here."

"Can't I, Potter?" Voldemort asked, his wand pointed at Harry.

Lily and James looked on in terrified silence. Harry had gotten himself out of a lot of trouble over the years, but things certainly looked bleak now. James noticed Sirius glancing between them and the scene before their group with a wondering expression; maybe at the fact that they weren't as panicked as he appeared to be. But then, he wasn't used to watching everything the way they'd grown to be.

"So you smashed my prophecy?" Voldemort asked of Harry, his voice soft and evil as he stared at the Potter's son, "No, Bella, he is not lying… I see the truth looking at me from within his worthless mind… Months of preparation, months of effort… and my Death Eaters have let Harry Potter thwart me again…."

"They sure have," James managed, even while he feared, as usual, for his son's life.

"This is ridiculous," Sirius said now, fear in his voice as he watched the scene, Bellatrix speaking up to apologize and Voldemort quieting her dangerously, "Where in the _hell_ is Dumbledore?" He looked at them, "Why don't you two look more worried?" he demanded.

"Oh, we're worried," James told him simply, not looking away from Harry. Sirius, his eyes narrowed in bewilderment, looked at him briefly and then back again.

Harry had stood uselessly while Bellatrix beseeched her master and he disregarded her. Lily knew he wouldn't get anywhere even if he tried to flee, but she couldn't help the part of her that silently pleaded for him to try anyway.

"I have nothing more to say to you, Potter," Voldemort said now with finality, "You have irked me too often, for too long. _AVADA KEDAVRA_!" Harry could do nothing but widen his eyes as the spell was cast toward him. Neither he nor his mother noticed the newest arrival to the room with nary a second to spare, as Lily had turned her head away from the scene, burying her face in James' chest. If this was the end, she didn't want to watch her baby die.

She looked quickly back at the sound of the headless, animated statue's crash to the floor in time to see the Killing Curse bounce off its chest as it shielded Harry from the spell. For a split second, she was as confused as her murderer looked, until she saw the Hogwarts Headmaster standing in front of the Atrium's golden gates.

"What—?" Voldemort demanded, staring around until he too saw him. "Dumbledore!" Harry followed his enemy's gaze and saw the source of his redemption only now. He looked shocked and relieved, to which James could relate.

Voldemort, his original foe forgotten, set his sights on Dumbledore, but Lily was still grateful when the headless statue, still under Albus' control, thrust Harry backward and away from the fight. Sirius, too, sighed loudly in relief.

"It was foolish to come here tonight, Tom," Dumbledore informed Voldemort, the epitome of calm, "The Aurors are on their way—"

"By which time I shall be gone, and you dead!" Voldemort spit, sending another Killing Curse at the older wizard. Dumbledore laughed it off.

"Fat chance," Sirius muttered.

The duel continued between the two, Voldemort sending green jet after green jet of light while Dumbledore continued to deflect and shield, sending less violent spells in retaliation. Clearly he was not there to kill Tom Riddle, as the latter was quick to point out shortly thereafter. The fight intensified and Voldemort, for a moment, obviously thought he had won until the phoenix flew in and took the Killing Curse for its master, allowing Dumbledore the opening for the spell which caused the water to rise up and engulf the dark wizard. When it receded, nothing was left. Bellatrix screamed in despair.

Harry made to move, but Dumbledore, sounding frightened for the first time in James' memory, both living and otherwise, pleaded, "Stay where you are, Harry!"

Harry appeared confused at his tone too and looked around as if for the source of this. And then he screamed the most terrible and tortured scream either of his parents had ever heard. He fell violently to the floor, twitching and writhing, even as he yelled in agony. "Oh my God!" Lily cried out, leaning into her husband with her hands over her mouth, "No, please!"

"Harry," James said, pained at the sight.

" _Kill me now, Dumbledore,"_ the rasping voice spoke from Harry's mouth, a creature that was not their son, " _If death is nothing, Dumbledore, kill the boy…"_

His body still jerked roughly as Dumbledore crossed quickly to him and the Floo networks flared up in the Atrium and emitted a stream of witches and wizards reporting to work. The spasms wracking his body slowed when the old man reached him. He was facedown, his glasses on the floor a few feet from him, shivering and white as a sheet. Slowly, to the relief of his watching family, Harry stirred and reached for his glasses, and then turned to face his Headmaster.

"But… he—he should be possessed right now," Sirius said, dumbfounded, "I've never seen…"

James, laughing in relief, clapped his friend on the back. "That's my son, Padfoot. Did you want him possessed?"

Sirius looked at him with the type of withering expression siblings often give one another. "Of _course_ not. I just…" he trailed off again, obviously at a loss. And with good reason. Neither James nor Lily understood exactly what had just happened either, but they were fine with it all the same.

"It's not the first unexplainable thing that's happened to him," Lily added softly with a wry smile, even while she continued to watch as Dumbledore, in a truly fatherly fashion, defended Harry from the mass of people and sent him back to the safety of Hogwarts, "It's probably not the last either."

And as long as those unexplainable things kept her son safe, she couldn't find it in herself to care.

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 **Thanks for reading!  
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	21. Prophecy

**Hello! I didn't realize how LONG the scene in Dumbledore's office is in OotP, so writing this took a while. I wrote almost 2,000 words before realizing I hadn't even reached the point of it yet and had to start all over, so I apologize for the wait.  
**

 **Also, because I'm not sure if I ever made this clear or not, the majority of the dialogue that occurs within the actual scenes from the books is taken directly from the source and is not mine. I occasionally add to or expand certain scenes, but most of it still belongs to JK Rowling.**

 **Enjoy!**

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Once Harry had finished his most recent round of yelling, Albus Dumbledore, seated behind his desk, stared calmly at him. Harry, still visibly furious, met his eyes unwaveringly.

James, Lily, and Sirius had watched, stunned, for the better part of an hour now, as the young Potter had raged, yelled, and destroyed various items in the Headmaster's Office in the aftermath of Sirius' death. It was a version of Harry none of them had ever seen before, but which no one was particular surprised had finally made an appearance. He had, after all, been through far more than enough to warrant it.

"It is time," Dumbledore said after a moment of tense silence, "for me to tell you what I should have told you five years ago, Harry. Please sit down. I am going to tell you everything. I ask only a little patience. You will have your chance to rage at me—to do whatever you like—when I have finished. I will not stop you."

Harry glared at him from across the room, but apparently resigned himself to that much because he crossed to his headmaster and flung himself down in the chair before his desk. Dumbledore let him wait, staring out his office window for a moment before looking back to his waiting pupil. "Five years ago you arrived at Hogwarts, Harry, safe and whole, as I had planned and intended," he said. James snorted without amusement before he amended, "Well—not quite whole. You had suffered. I knew you would when I left you on your aunt and uncle's doorstep. I knew I was condemning you to ten dark and difficult years."

He paused, still studying Harry. The latter said nothing. James wasn't sure he would have shown the same restraint in his position. Dumbledore went on to explain why the Dursley's had been the best option for Harry, despite the treatment he'd received. "You would be protected by an ancient magic of which he knows, which he despises, and which he has always, therefore, underestimated—to his cost," he said told him, speaking of Voldemort. "I am speaking, of course, of the fact that your mother died to save you. She gave you a lingering protection he never expected, a protection that flows in your veins to this day. I put my trust, therefore, in your mother's blood. I delivered you to her sister, her only remaining relative."

Harry spoke up quickly and for the first time at that. "She doesn't love me," he insisted, "She doesn't give a damn—"

"But she took you," Dumbledore told him, "She may have taken you grudgingly, furiously, unwillingly, bitterly, yet still she took you, and in doing so, she sealed the charm I placed upon you. Your mother's sacrifice made the bond of blood the strongest shield I could give you." James places a hand on Lily's back at the reminder of what she'd done for their child. Lily meanwhile leaned into James' side, watching but surprisingly unmoved by the recount of her actions fifteen years prior, even while she hadn't known the extent of it at the time. She regretted nothing about that night except that Harry had suffered so heavily in the time since because of it.

Harry started, "I still don't—"

"While you can still call home the place where your mother's blood dwells, there you cannot be touched or harmed by Voldemort," Dumbledore told him, going on to explain that even with Harry's absence from Privet drive for the majority of the year, his continued return during the summers, until his seventeenth birthday, kept Lily's protection over him.

A spark of realization showed on Harry's face now and he sat up straighter. "Wait," he said, "Wait a moment. You sent that Howler. You told her to remember—it was your voice—"

Dumbledore inclined his head and spared Harry the need to finish. "I thought that she might need reminding of the pact she had sealed by taking you. I suspected the dementor attack might have awoken her to the dangers of having you as a surrogate son."

"It did," Harry replied, his voice quiet. "Well — my uncle more than her. He wanted to chuck me out, but after the Howler came she — she said I had to stay." He studied the floor for a moment. "But what's this got to do with . . ." He trailed off, clearly unable to speak Sirius' name and pained yet again at the reminder.

Dumbledore chose not to take notice and instead continued his story. Harry had arrived at Hogwarts five years earlier, not well taken care of, but safe. His plan was working. And then came the events of his first year. "You rose magnificently to the challenge that faced you," Dumbledore said, "and sooner—much sooner—than I had anticipated, you found yourself face-to-face with Voldemort. You survived again. You did more. You delayed his return to full power and strength. You fought a man's fight. I was… prouder of you than I can say." This made Lily smile in spite of herself. She knew the older wizard cared for Harry a great deal, loved him even, and she was reminded, once again, how much she owed the man for showing Harry love when few others did.

"Yet there was a flaw in this wonderful plan of mine," said Dumbledore. He said it was an obvious one, which might have undone everything, and yet he refused to allow the plan to be foiled. "And here was my first test," he said, "as you lay in the hospital wing, weak from your struggle with Voldemort."

"I don't understand what you're saying," Harry told him.

"Don't you remember asking me, as you lay in the hospital wing, why Voldemort had tried to kill you when you were a baby?" Harry nodded and Dumbledore continued, "Ought I to have told you then?" He again received no response and continued on again after a pause. "You do not see the flaw in the plan yet? No… perhaps not. Well, as you know, I decided not to answer you. Eleven, I told myself, was much too young to know. I had never intended to tell you when you were eleven. The knowledge would be too much at such a young age." He went on, explaining to Harry how eleven had turned into twelve and time had gone on. More extraordinary things happened and still he'd said nothing.

"Do you see, Harry?" he asked now, "Do you see the flaw in my brilliant plan now? I had fallen into the trap I had foreseen, that I had told myself I could avoid, that I must avoid."

Clearly he didn't. Harry stared blankly at the older wizard. "I don't—"

"I cared about you too much," said Dumbledore elaborated simply. "I cared more for your happiness than your knowing the truth, more for your peace of mind than my plan, more for your life than the lives that might be lost if the plan failed. In other words, I acted exactly as Voldemort expects we fools who love to act. "

He continued with his account. Harry had turned thirteen and faced dementors, learned the truth about Sirius, rescued him. Dumbledore admitted his excuses for holding out on the truth were running out. "Young you might be, but you had proved you were exceptional. My conscience was uneasy, Harry. I knew the time must come soon…"

The night in the maze with Cedric Diggory's death and Voldemort's return added an even greater burden to Harry's already heavy load and his headmaster hadn't been able to bring himself to add so much more to it. He did not tell him this secret, but knew the time for delaying was running short. "And now, tonight, I know you have long been ready for the knowledge I have kept from you for so long, because you have proved that I should have placed the burden upon you before this. My only defense is this: I have watched you struggling under more burdens than any student who has ever passed through this school, and I could not bring myself to add another—the greatest one of all."

"I still don't understand," Harry said.

"Voldemort tried to kill you when you were a child because of a prophecy made shortly before your birth," Dumbledore said now and told Harry that the dark wizard had known only part of its contents and believed he was fulfilling its terms when he'd set out to kill Harry as a baby. That he'd failed when the killing curse backfired and that since his return to his body, he'd been determined to hear the thing in its entirety.

Harry told Dumbledore how the prophecy had smashed during the fight in the Department of Ministries and that no one had heard it.

"The thing that smashed was merely the record of the prophecy kept by the Department of Mysteries" Dumbledore corrected, "But the prophecy was made to somebody, and that person has the means of recalling it perfectly."

Harry looked like he knew what the answer would be before he asked, "Who heard it?"

"I did," Dumbeldore answered, and told him. He retrieved his Penseive and placed it before Harry on his desk, provided the memory of the night for it, and set it to play before Harry's eyes. James, Lily, and Sirius all watched the scene play out in silence. The former two knew, of course, the prophecy's general idea, but watching it play out, the very event that had dictated so violently the paths all of their lives would take, was something else entirely.

When the memory ended, Harry looked to Dumbledore for clarification of what he'd just watched and the Hogwarts headmaster translated it for him; that the person who would conquer Voldemort would be born at the end of July to parents who had already defied him three times.

Harry had gone pale as his favorite professor's meaning became clear. "It means—me?"

Dumbledore told him how it very well could have meant Neville Longbottom instead, that there was no way to know.

"Then—it might not be me?"

"I am afraid that there is no doubt that it _is_ you," Dumbledore informed him, looking pained at having to say such a thing. Harry attempted to protest but the former continued, reminding him that Voldemort had marked him as his equal when the killing curse scarred his forehead.

"But he might have chosen wrong!" Harry countered, "He might have marked the wrong person!" He so obviously wished that were the case. His family looking on wished the same, even while wishing such meant Neville Longbottom would be in Harry's position, a position in which no one, much less a fifteen year old boy, should ever have to be.

Dumbledore continued, explaining that Voldemort had chosen the child he thought most dangerous to him. That child had been Harry. By marking his forehead, Voldemort unwittingly gave him the power he needed to escape him again and again as he had.

"Why did he do it, then?" demanded Harry, who looked like he didn't want to believe what he was hearing. "Why did he try and kill me as a baby? He should have waited to see whether Neville or I looked more dangerous when we were older and tried to kill whoever it was then—"

"That might, indeed, have been the more practical course," said Dumbledore, "except that Voldemort's information about the prophecy was incomplete." He told how someone had overheard the first half of Sibyll Trelawney's recitation but was discovered and thrown out before he could learn the rest. "…Voldemort never knew that there might be danger in attacking you," Dumbledore said, "that it might be wise to wait or to learn more. He did not know that you would have 'power the Dark Lord knows not'—"

"But I don't!" Harry interrupted, his voice weak, "I haven't any powers he hasn't got, I couldn't fight the way he did tonight, I can't possess people—or kill them—"

"Thank God for that," Sirius murmured, speaking up for the first time. James and Lily, while they said nothing, agreed wholeheartedly.

Dumbledore had interrupted Harry's rant once more and spoke now, speaking of the locked room in the Department of Mysteries and the force that had saved Harry from Voldemort's possession earlier that very night. "In the end, it mattered not that you could not close your mind," he said, "It was your heart that saved you."

Harry closed his eyes, as if attempting to stave off unpleasant thoughts, and asked, "The end of the prophecy… it was something about… _'neither can live_ … _'_

"'… _while the other survives,_ '" Dumbledore finished.

"So," Harry replied hollowly, "so does that mean that…that one of us has got to kill the other one… in the end?"

Lily's heart had dropped like a weight to her stomach. She'd heard the words of the prophecy along with the rest of them, but she hadn't put the pieces together yet, interested as she'd been before in Harry's reaction to it all. Now she wondered if things could get any worse for her poor son. Even without Dumbledore's confirmation, she knew he would guess right. "Oh, my—" she started, but her voice broke and she said nothing more but stood with a lump in her throat as Dumbledore answered Harry.

"Yes."

James grabbed her hand and said nothing. Silence fell in the Headmaster's Office and for a minute, the same was true of the trio looking on. Sirius was the first to break it as he cursed violently and, bracing his hands on his hips, hung his head.

There was another short pause before James spoke. "I guess we shouldn't be that surprised. Lily looked at him incredulously. "How else could it end?" he asked logically, "Voldemort won't stop. I hate it just as much as you do, but…" He trailed off, shrugging helplessly.

"But Harry…" Lily murmured to no one in particular, her eyes again on their son, who still sat, ashen faced, across from Albus Dumbledore.

"It's not fair," Sirius said quietly, and then cursed again. He was clearly just as pained by the situation as the Potters.

James wrapped an arm around Lily now, pulling her close to him, both for her comfort and his. He lifted his free hand and placed it on Sirius' shoulder. He didn't react, but James knew he appreciated the gesture all the same.

"I feel I owe you another explanation, Harry," Dumbledore said hesitantly, breaking the heavy silence that still reigned in his office, "You may, perhaps, have wondered why I never chose you as a prefect? I must confess… that I rather thought… you had enough responsibility to be going on with." James felt this added truth, while Dumbledore had not been wrong in that decision, was like adding salt to an open wound. But then, at least everything was out in the open now.

Harry looked up at Dumbledore in time to see the single tear trace its way down his headmaster's face. He said nothing immediately, but nodded after a heavy pause. He seemed unaffected by this new information one way or the other, but after everything else he'd just learned, his lack of a prefect's badge was surely the least of his worries. Lily could remember few other times when she'd wanted to hug her son as much as she did now. It killed her that she couldn't. "Can I go now?" Harry asked finally, his voice quiet and tired.

Dumbledore studied him for a second before he answered, "Yes." Harry stood and crossed the office to the door, which was unlocked now when he turned the knob. "Harry," Dumbledore called to him and he turned in the open doorway, "I _am_ sorry." Whether it was for his decision regarding prefects, for Sirius' death, or for the prophecy as a whole, he didn't say. Maybe he meant it for everything.

Harry met the headmaster's eyes, but said nothing, and after a second, he turned again and left. He made it halfway down the hallway before the tears finally forced themselves free. He ducked into an alcove and, as his loved ones watched unbeknownst to him, Harry let them who remained by the door.

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 **Thanks for reading!  
**


	22. Quidditch Captain

**Hi! I whipped this chapter up really quick for you guys.** **After all the doom and gloom of the last few chapters, I wanted something a little happier for this update.** **In the book, this scene is extremely small and is essentially glossed over so I was able to expand it and add a bit of my own spin, which I enjoyed. It's a bit on the short side, but hopefully it will make you smile.**

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James was laughing and Lily smiling as they watched their son stare down in shock at the shiny badge that had fallen out of his envelope of book lists for the upcoming school year. "No way," the now sixteen-year old breathed to himself.

"Is that what I think it is?" James asked, leaning forward as if for a better look, "Is that a captain's badge?"

"Looks that way," Lily answered.

It was confirmed by Ron Weasley a second later. "Blimey, Harry, you've been made captain!"

"That's my boy!" James crowed, possibly as proud as he'd ever been, "Quidditch captain, and about time! Those slimy Slytherins won't know what hit 'em!"

"James!" Lily laughed, swatting her husband's arm.

"What?" he demanded, unashamed, "It's true. This year's cup is Gryffindor's for sure! Where's Sirius? That mangy git is gonna want to hear this."

She breathed a laugh and looked back at the scene. Ron held the badge now and stood examining it. "Harry, this is so cool," he said, grinning, "you're my captain—if you let me back on the team, I suppose, ha ha…" Harry's friend handed the badge back as Molly Weasley, scanning her son's list, began speaking and saved Harry from replying. This was maybe for the best. The Potters' son loved Ron like a brother, but Quidditch meant the world to him. He would be a fair captain, they knew, and that meant if he found a better Keeper than his best friend, he wouldn't hesitate much to choose that student over him.

Harry stared down at his badge as Molly spoke. He looked pleased. "This is going to be a great year," James said, "Merlin's pants, I'm so proud."

Lily smirked. "You don't say." But she was proud as well. Harry was an exceptional athlete and a brilliant leader. He deserved recognition for his achievements and it was nice to know he had been singled out and honored for something normal. She had to agree with James that the upcoming school year was already looking better than the last.

James made a face at his wife, but his delight was unabated.

When the plans were set for the Weasleys, Harry, and Hermione to travel to Diagon Alley over the weekend for school supplies, Molly turned away from the teenagers. Hermione beamed at her friend. "Congratulations, Harry," she told him, "You'll make a great captain." Ginny, on her way out of the Burrow's kitchen, smiled at him as well. She appeared to agree.

Harry grinned in return. "Thanks, Hermione."

"Yeah!" Ron piped up, "You'll lead us to victory for sure!" Harry seemed slightly embarrassed now, even while he continued to smile.

"What's happened?" Sirius asked now, appearing behind them. James turned and grinned widely at his best friend. He could barely contain his glee. He remembered wanting few things in life once Harry was born—though very few indeed had come to fruition, as he'd died a year later. Still, his son being named Quidditch captain, even if he hadn't realized it in so many words at the time, was definitely one of them. And he was glad for his boy. Finally, he'd been recognized for something good, something he worked hard for, did well, and enjoyed.

"Harry's been named Quidditch captain for the upcoming school year," Lily informed Sirius before James could.

"Really?" Sirius asked, grinning widely. He stepped forward, clapping James on the back and wrapping a jovial arm around Lily, "That's brilliant! He deserves it. That boy flies even better than you, Prongs."

"I know!" James said, "I dare say he could play professionally one day."

"Bloody Slytherins won't know what hit them."

"Yes!" James replied, " _Thank_ you. You understand." He looked at Lily with eyebrows raised accusingly. She rolled her eyes, but smiled. She would never understand men and their obsession with sports. She disliked Slytherin house as much as any Gryffindor, but surely not everything had to come back to that.

It turned out to be a short affair. With the initial excitement past, Harry left the kitchen with Ron and Hermione and followed them upstairs to deposit their school lists in their rooms before going about the rest of their morning. James' excitement, nearly palpable even now, was sure to last far longer. And frankly, Lily adored him for it.

If only you knew, she thought, watching their son and wishing he could hear her, If only you could see how proud we are of you.

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 **Thank you for reading!  
**


	23. Fancy

**Hello hello! Another update for you. And the next one is already more than halfway finished, so you can expect to see that one very soon. I hope you enjoy!**

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Harry was a good friend. Lily and James knew this already, but it was nice to have the idea reaffirmed. The day's Quidditch practice had been horrible to say the least. Ron Weasley had not played well at all and it affected everyone on the team, but Harry hadn't once said a word that was anything less than encouraging toward his best friend the whole way back from the changing rooms. And his faith in Ron did not seem misplaced, as the redheaded young wizard was a decent player when he wasn't under pressure, and Harry sounded incredibly sure when he informed him, over and over again, of this fact. James admired his son's patience. He knew he'd lacked it himself at that age. He probably lacked it still.

Things got interesting, however, when the boys, on their way to the Gryffindor common room, pulled back the tapestry guarding the usual shortcut up to the tower to reveal Ginny Weasley and Dean Thomas locked in a passionate embrace, their lips locked tightly together.

Harry's face shifted from weary but well meaning to extreme and obvious fury in an instant. It was there for a mere second before he managed to school his expression somewhat, but only enough to make him appear rather pained. A series of obvious and violent emotions flashed behind his green eyes. James and Lily took notice of this change. "Is he jealous?" Lily asked in wonder. James did not answer, but he grinned, watching the scene play out.

Until this point, Harry had not given any indication that he thought of his best friend's little sister as anything more than she was. They had become quite good friends, especially in recent months, but that wasn't cause to think anything, was it? James liked to think so, but then he'd liked the Weasleys' youngest for Harry for a while now. And Lily had to admit she was likely a smarter choice than Cho Chang had been.

Before them, Ron yelled, "Oi!" The couple, apparently unaware of the intruders until now, sprang apart.

"What?" Ginny demanded, far from repentant.

"I don't want to find my own sister snogging people in public!" Ron cried.

"This was a deserted corridor till you came butting in!" Harry said nothing throughout this exchange. A fierce internal battle appeared to rage within him. It was truly the strangest thing, but neither Potter looking on had much doubt as to what it meant.

Dean, looking uncomfortably, offered Harry a devilish grin, as if he expected encouragement from his friend. He received no such thing. Harry did not smile in reply. In fact, he appeared as if he were physically restraining himself from hexing the boy. Dean noticed and, appearing taken aback, attempted to bring Ginny back to the common room with him. The latter, thoroughly engaged in the argument with her brother now, firmly declined and Dean left alone. James briefly considered sympathy toward him but ultimately could not find it within himself.

The squabble between Ron and Ginny continued, growing ever more heated. Harry remained largely uninvolved and seemed at war with himself, even while he did, at one point, come to Ron's aid when Ginny drew her wand on him. The action seemed more instinctual than backed by any real conviction. Lily even thought he appeared the slightest bit pleased at the dressing down Ron was giving his sister, though she rather doubted his motives were as pure.

He seemed to break out of his daze a bit when Ron's wand made an appearance as well. Harry placed himself firmly between them. "Don't be stupid—" he began, trying to calm his friend, but Ginny interrupted him.

"Harry's snogged Cho Chang!" She sounded close to tears now. "And Hermione snogged Viktor Krum, it's only you who acts like it's something disgusting, Ron, and that's because you've got about as much experience as a twelve-year-old!" With that, she turned and stormed angrily off, leaving Ron, gobsmacked and furious, staring after her. The boys stood there, silent and breathing hard, until Mrs. Norris, the cat, came and the two hurried upstairs, Ron nearly trampling a young witch as they did.

Ron thundered on, raging. Harry trailed behind him and appeared somewhat unsteady. He seemed in a daze. "He fancies her," James crowed, triumphant, for there could be no other explanation, "He must!"

Lily sighed but couldn't disagree. "I think you're right."

"About time. That poor girl's been hung up on him for years."

"Yes, she seemed _very_ hung up on Harry back in the corridor," Lily remarked sardonically.

James made a face at her. "C'mon, Lil. Ginny's great for Harry. He needs a girl like her."

"He's sixteen."

"So were we."

"Be reasonable, James. You saw how badly Ron reacted to finding Ginny snogging Dean just now. Imagine how well he would take to his best friend doing that."

"You never know. I think I'd prefer my best friend over someone else."

"Harry's a good friend. I don't think it's that simple."

"I'm not saying it will happen straight away, but if he's finally come to his senses about her, I say it's bound to happen eventually."

Lily sighed lightly but found herself fighting a smile. As Harry's mother, she wanted nothing more than for him to be happy, but she also knew what lay in the future and she didn't want him to face any more pain then he already surely would. And yet, she did like Ginny Weasley rather a lot and if anyone could handle the pressure of dating Harry Potter, she definitely seemed the witch for the job. And maybe she could give their son some happiness. He certainly deserved it. "Well," she told her husband, allowing a hint of wistfulness in her tone, "Let's see if she breaks things off with Dean first."

James snorted. "Please. From what little we've seen of it, _that_ relationship's been doomed from the start."

Lily didn't bother telling him she quite agreed.

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 **Thanks for reading! And to my fellow Americans, have a happy 4th of July!  
**


	24. Sectumsempra

**Hello again. Another update for you. As I mentioned earlier when I posted the previous update, this one was almost completely finished and I wanted to get it posted for you before I head to bed. These chapters grow more and more interesting to write as everything comes to a head in the story and I'm honestly looking forward to continuing on to the end. In the meantime, however, enjoy this super fast update and thank you for all your support!**

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"This is your copy of _Advanced Potion-Making,_ is it, Potter?"

"Yes."

"You're quite sure of that, are you, Potter?"

"Yes."

"This is the copy of _Advanced Potion-Making_ that you purchased from Flourish and Blotts?"

"Yes."

"Then why does it have the name 'Roonil Wazlib' written inside the front cover?"

"That's my nickname."

James couldn't help but snort in surprised amusement at that. He was feeling incredibly conflicted watching the entire scene play out before him. He and Lily had been there when, just a few minutes earlier, Harry encountered Draco Malfoy crying in the boy's bathroom. They'd seen the duel that had ensued and Harry's—obviously desperate—use of the spell that had torn Draco's skin to shreds beneath his robes, the blood that had soaked the floor beneath him; Harry's panic in the aftermath. They'd watched his mad attempt at hiding his potions book after Severus Snape demanded he deliver it to him, seen him hand over Ron Weasley's book instead. They were watching now the conversation in which Harry lied through his teeth again and again, and Snape grew obviously less and less inclined to believe him.

And James was conflicted.

He was conflicted for many reasons, namely because of his extreme dislike of the man currently questioning his son. James had hated Snivellus long before Harry had even been born, but his opinion of the man had not improved in the slightest in the time since Harry had met the man himself. He always treated the Potters' son terribly, and James, because Harry had never deserved the treatment he received from his potions professor, had never wavered in the slightest about his ill opinion of the man.

Now, however, he was conflicted, and he was conflicted because Snivellus was right. What Harry had done was terrible—James had still not recovered from the utter horror that had blossomed inside him at the sight of the dark magic produced at his son's hand—and he absolutely deserved whatever consequence Snape handed to him. However, he was also furious at the thought of the slimy git disciplining Harry for the act at all, given what he knew—what Lily had told him over the course of the school year about the potion's book Harry currently used—about the origin of the _Sectumsempra_ curse. It was nothing short of hypocritical, and Harry, misguided as he probably was for studying the book so closely at all, had not known what he was doing when he'd used it. Anyone who had seen—which conveniently had been no one who could do anything about it—knew he had acted purely out of panic.

Lily hadn't said anything since her initial cry of shock when the blood had begun spouting furiously from the wounds in Draco's chest. She felt a great many emotions. She was obviously worried for Harry and what would happen to him, though she knew he was in no danger. Severus, though he was perpetually unpleasant towards him, would never hurt her son. But then, to think he'd stooped low enough at one point, even during his young, questionable years, to invent such a horrific curse at all was more than a bit worrisome. She never would have believed it if she had not witnessed firsthand her friend's writing in that book during their own years in school. Severus had been an exceptional wizard, especially when it came to potions, and it scared her to think what other horrors he might have come up with.

The back and forth continued between Harry and Severus. "Do you know what I think, Potter?" he said, his voice suddenly quiet compared to the tone he'd been using. Lily hated how he referred to Harry like that, but it was far from her biggest concern at the moment as he continued, "I think that you are a liar and a cheat and that you deserve detention with me every Saturday until the end of term. What do you think, Potter?"

Harry, looking anywhere but the potions master's eyes, said, "I—I don't agree, sir."

Snape was unmoved. "Well, we shall see how you feel after your detentions. Ten o'clock Saturday morning, Potter. My office."

Harry's tone turned desperate now. "But sir… Quidditch… the last match of the…"

"Ten o'clock," Snape repeated in a cruel whisper, smiling unpleasantly, "Poor Gryffindor… fourth place this year, I fear…" The potions master, looking quite pleased with himself, left Harry alone in the bathroom then. The latter watched him go and continued staring at the spot where he'd disappeared long after he'd gone. The young Potter looked incredibly ill.

James stood silently, watching him for a moment before he sighed and swore. "I can't even fault the tosser. Snivellus just ruined Quidditch for Harry and all of Gryffindor and I can't even disagree with his decision." He swore again and sat down, bracing his head in his hands. " _Merlin_ , Harry, what were you _thinking_?"

"I doubt he knew what he was getting into," Lily said, sounding tired, "Poor Harry. He looked terrified when Draco started bleeding."

"Can you blame him?"

She shook her head, still not quite sure how she felt. "I can't believe Severus created such an awful spell."

"Really? _That's_ what you can't believe here? That's the least surprising fact, I think."

Lily sighed and pursed her lips, but didn't argue. If she thought about it, she really wasn't _that_ surprised. Things had gotten pretty grim with her friend towards the end of their education. She'd eventually stopped speaking to him because of it. Still, James' opinion of Severus would never change and it wasn't worth reliving the usual conversation regarding the subject. Especially right now. "Poor Harry," she said instead, repeating the line from earlier. It was all she really could say about the situation, though she too did not fault Severus for his decision in punishing her son as he had. Saturday detentions were well within the range of acceptable consequences considering the severity of Harry's action. Draco easily could have died, and misguided as the boy may have been, he certainly didn't deserve that.

"And Quidditch!" James lamented again, "Gryffindor was just starting to look promising again too! What are they supposed to do without their captain? Never mind their Seeker! They're done for…" He shook his head sorrowfully.

Lily thought the sport should have been the least of anyone's concerns right then, but she did know how much it meant to Harry. Missing the championship would be easily worse to him than a million detentions could ever be. It was the perfect punishment and Severus knew it.

"It's probably salt in the wound at this point," she commented, "Harry would never repeat that curse again anyway, but Severus enjoys tormenting him and he has a perfectly valid excuse to now." She lowered herself down beside her husband and leaned into his side. There really wasn't anything more to say on the subject and the two sat together in unhappy silence, watching Harry, who still stood where Snape had left him, shocked and horrified. He remained that way for a few minutes more before, dejected and clearly mortified, he made his way almost mechanically out of the bathroom.

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 **Thanks for reading!**


	25. Detention

**Hey, guys. I started writing this chapter as the Harry/Ginny kiss scene, but it ended up slightly long-winded. Rather than erase almost everything and start over, I decided to just post this one first and make the Common Room Kiss next chapter. I'll try to have it up soon. Sorry for the slightly longer wait on this one - I've been out of town.**

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It was an agonizing thing for James Potter to watch his son walk in the opposite direction of the bustling crowds of students on match day. Maybe as agonizing as it was for Harry Potter to do so. "This is wrong," he said, watching, with Lily beside him, their son descend his way to the basement as the sounds of Quidditch excitement faded behind him. It looked almost physically painful for him.

It was almost physically painful for James.

Lily opened her mouth to speak, but ultimately had nothing to say. She did not disagree with Serverus' punishing Harry with Saturday detentions for the rest of the year after the _Sectumsempra_ fiasco, but she truly did feel for her son in that moment. She closed her mouth again with a helpless sigh.

James shook his head. "This is _so_ wrong."

Harry reached Snape's office and was given a greeting warm as a midwinter blizzard. He walked in and took in the space. A pile of dusty boxes sat stacked atop a table, waiting for him.

"Mr. Filch has been looking for someone to clear out these old files," the potions master told Harry in a soft voice, "They are the records of other Hogwarts wrongdoers and their punishments. Where the ink has grown faint, or the cards have suffered damage from mice, we would like you to copy out the crimes and punishments afresh and, making sure that they are in alphabetical order, replace them in the boxes. You will not use magic."

"Oh, yes. That sounds so relevant to his education," James drawled sardonically.

"Right, Professor," Harry replied, pronouncing the second word like an obscenity.

Snape went on, a cruel smile crossing his face now. "I thought you could start with boxes one thousand and twelve to one thousand and fifty-six. You will find some familiar names in there, which should add interest to the task. Here, you see …"

He pulled dramatically from the top box at random, producing a card from which he read, "' _James Potter and Sirius Black. Apprehended using an illegal hex upon Bertram Aubrey. Aubrey's head twice normal size. Double detention._ '" He sneered at Harry then, "It must be such a comfort to think that, though they are gone, a record of their great achievements remains…"

"You bet your greasy underpants it is," James said. He remembered the event fondly. Harry looked downright murderous, but he—wisely, Lily thought—held his tongue and sat down, pulling one of the lower boxes toward him.

It was dull work, and watching it wasn't much better—for Lily anyway. James rather enjoyed reading over each card of his and his friends and remembering the great deal of trouble they'd regularly gotten themselves into. He'd laugh and comment at random intervals:

"I'm still proud that we pulled that off!"

" _That_ was a good prank. Took a whole night of planning."

"I'd almost forgotten about that one!"

"Ha! His hair was green for a week!"

"We nearly got away with that one."

It continued on like this for several hours. Every few minutes was punctuated by Harry's discovery of another card containing a familiar name. Every time he did, he stiffened for a moment, reading through the latest offence of James Potter and company. Seeing this sobered James slightly. Snivellus knew exactly what he was doing when he assigned Harry this job and the greasy git watched occasionally from his desk his reactions with a glint of cruel satisfaction in his eyes. The sight made James' blood boil.

After a while, Lily found herself rather amazed at the sheer amount that contained the "Marauders'" names. She knew they'd caused a great deal of trouble during their years at Hogwarts, but still. "You must not have been as good at pranking as you thought you were," she commented after yet another card was discovered—this time of a midnight joyride taken by the four on a magic carpet. "If you got caught this often."

James snorted. "We hardly got caught at all."

Lily looked at him. "James, that's like the thirtieth card we've seen from this box alone."

"We were there for _seven years_ , Lil. We really weren't caught _that_ often. You were there. I'd say we were about ninety percent successful. And anyway that was before the map."

"Wow," she replied dryly, shaking her head.

"It's impressive, I know," James said with a grin.

"It's something all right. I don't think impressive is the word though."

Sirius wandered over after a while and stood on James' other side. "Snivellus has got Harry doing _this_ instead of playing Quidditch?" he demanded, appalled. James nodded. Sirius shook his head, watching the young Potter rewrite a card for a Sarah Everly, who'd been caught out of bounds past curfew. He was clearly sorely disappointed that Harry's exceptional Quidditch skills were being wasted for such a menial task. Sirius, as James knew well, had never had much patience for detention. It had never dissuaded him, after all. His enthusiasm did increase, however, when the next card was pulled and contained his, James', and Remus' names. Professor Slughorn had caught them out of bed and attempting to brew a babbling beverage to slip into Severus Snape's pumpkin juice. They'd only been found out because they'd accidentally added one too many drops of Bulbadox Juice and the whole thing had exploded in their faces. In the confused daze that enveloped them, they hadn't gotten away in time.

"That was an unfortunate night," James said.

"We should have been more careful," Sirius agreed, "But we went back a few nights later and completed the task then. Snivellus was babbling for two straight days!" He added this last part for Lily's benefit, as James knew what they did very well. Lily shook her head. She remembered the effects of that prank just fine herself. Hers and Serverus' relationship had been growing rocky by that point as he'd gotten ever deeper into the Dark Arts, but she'd far from fancied James yet and she remembered being more than a little cross with him and his cronies in the aftermath of it all.

"Moony tried telling us it was only three drops the first time. But I was certain it was four. Probably could have saved ourselves a lot of trouble if we'd listened to him," James reminisced.

"That's shocking," Lily said sardonically. The men ignored her. Harry had pulled another card from the box. This one also contained their names, sans Remus' this time, and was dated several weeks after the last one.

"Ah, that was a good one too!" James said, "Totally worth detention with Dumbledore."

"Dumbledore never gave bad detentions anyway," Sirius replied, "I've always said he secretly liked our pranks."

Lily had stopped listening to their conversation. Harry, finished with yet another card, risked another glance at the large clock on the dungeon's wall. He'd been sneaking glances at it every few minutes and seemed disappointed every time he turned away. Clearly he was hoping to find the minutes ticking by quicker than they were. She couldn't really blame him, though a few hours' boredom was not an unreasonable punishment after what had happened. It was obvious from Harry's expression as he moved on to the next card that his mind was elsewhere.

His stomach began rumbling with audible huger after a while, but the potions master, who had been utterly silent after setting Harry his task, gave no indication of releasing him from his duties just yet.—this grated on Lily. And sure enough, it was almost exactly another forty minutes when the finally looked over at him.

"I think that will do," he said callously, "Mark the place you have reached. You will continue at ten o'clock next Saturday."

"Yes, sir," Harry answered. Moving swiftly, he stuffed a bent card randomly in the closest box, far from where he'd stopped—James snorted—before standing and taking his leave as if afraid the professor would change his mind and call him back.

Harry raced up the many stone steps. The castle and the grounds were utterly quiet. The match was clearly over. Apparently reaching this same conclusion, the teenaged Potter looked suddenly nervous as he navigated the stairs up to Gryffindor Tower. As captain, the team was his responsibility and he'd let them down. If they'd lost, it was his fault.

James, Lily, and Sirius waited with him. They could have easily learned for themselves the outcome of the match—they could even have watched it for themselves if they'd felt so inclined, but neither had wanted to do so if Harry wasn't playing. Instead they would learn with him the results, whatever the outcome.

" _Quid agis_?" Harry said tentatively to the Fat Lady's portrait outside the common room. In his uncertainty, the password came out like a question.

"You'll see," the painting replied before opening to allow him entry. It didn't take very long at all for the outcome to become clear.

The Fat Lady swung forward and deafening sounds of celebration poured out of the hole behind her.

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 **Thanks for reading!  
**


	26. Common Room Kiss

**Hello! Super quick update for you because I wanted to get this scene written and posted. I had fun working on this one. :)**

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Harry gaped from the portrait hole at the scene before him for maybe two seconds before celebrating fellow Gryffindors pulled him inside. The cheering grew exponentially louder as his presence became known. He looked like he didn't believe his eyes.

James laughed in delight. "They did it!" he crowed, "They won! Even without a captain!" He and Sirius, still standing on his other side, high-fived exuberantly.

"What I wouldn't give to see the look on Snivellus' face when he finds out," the latter said, grinning ear to ear.

"We won!" came the delighted cry of Ron Weasley, who bounded across the common room toward his best friend now, the Quidditch Cup held aloft, "Four hundred and fifty to a hundred and forty! We won!"

"Alright," Lily smiled as her husband, nearly giddy with glee, slung an arm around her, "I'm very impressed." She couldn't deny that was an remarkable margin under the circumstances.

"The championship!" James said, "That is _skill_. No captain, substitute Seeker, substitute Chaser, and _still!_ A well-oiled team. A _brilliant_ one!"

"Uh, oh," Sirius said lightly , grinning wider now as Ginny Weasely came into view, near-sprinting through the throng of people in the crowded space toward Harry, "This could get interesting." He knew as well as any of them of his godson's poorly disguised affections for the girl.

Lily saw what was coming before it happened. Ginny's expression was fierce and blazing with excitement. She looked very pretty with her wind-blown hair and the gleam of victory in her brown eyes. Harry, she knew, was not unaware of this fact. Something clicked in his features a millisecond before they collided and, clearly taking everyone by surprise, he kissed her. Ginny herself seemed to stiffen for the tiniest instant in shock before she melted against Harry Potter—the boy she'd fancied for so long.

James, for all his talk of Harry's needing to make a move on Ginny in the weeks since the corridor incident, seemed startled that it had finally happened. And Sirius, for that matter stood slack-jawed as he watched the scene. "No," James breathed lightly in amazement before he began laughing and, before Lily realized what was happening, he had spun her in a celebratory circle. "That's my boy!" he shouted when he'd set her down again, "About bloody time!"

Lily was laughing.

This public display of affection had quite an effect on the other members of Gryffindor House as well. A great and sudden quiet had befallen the common room. Dean Thomas, Ginny's—recently designated—ex-boyfriend gripped a glass tightly enough that it broke in his hand while a few feet away, Romilda Vane, who'd held a rather unhealthy infatuation with Harry for some time now, looked downright murderous. Hermione appeared surprised only at the suddenness of the display, but grinned and clearly agreed with James' sentiments on the subject. Poor Ron looked like he'd taken several Bludgers to the head as he stared at the entwined figures of his best friend and little sister.

It was a good while before the couple broke apart. Harry looked like he'd rather forgotten everyone else was there at all. Met with the sudden silence now, a handful of students wolf-whistled at them, which caused others—James and Sirius included—to break out in laughter. The young Potter scanned the faces until his gaze ultimately fell on his best friend, who still looked more than a bit thunderstruck. Under Harry's gaze, though still visibly floundering, he managed a small jerking motion, which Harry clearly took as near-approval because he grinned widely and looked at Ginny.

The red-haired witch was flushed and smiling. She looked happier than Lily ever remembered seeing her. That Harry had such an effect on her and she on him made her smile.

Harry gestured vaguely back toward the portrait hole in a _Lets get out of here_ sort of way. Ginny just smiled even wider, an action which he took as obvious agreement before looking back out at the gathered crowd. "We'll, er, be back later," he said distantly and then turned without another word and led her out of the common room.

"Take your time!" someone called after the two in a playfully sweet tone and was rewarded with more giggling.

The room erupted the moment they were gone. "Oh my God!" one witch said to her friend, "Was that _Harry Potter_ we just saw? It was like he was a different person!"

"Two Galleons says they're going to find the closest hidden corridor," an older wizard joked. Sirius snorted.

"I can't believe this!" Romilda Vane cried shrilly to a group of friends, "What has _Ginny Weasley_ got that I haven't? She's not even that pretty!"

"Self respect, for one," James muttered and a laugh escaped Lily's lips before she could stop herself.

A smirking Hermione approached a still flummoxed Ron. "Are you okay?" she asked, trying and failing to school her features.

"I… I dunno," was his answer. He turned his still-wide eyes on her and demanded, "Did you know?"

She shrugged. "He never came out and said he fancied her, but anyone with two eyes and a brain could see it was true."

"He never told me."

"Well, of course not. Ginny's your sister. He was probably terrified you'd hate him."

"He didn't seem too terrified just then."

"I'm pretty sure that just happened without any prior thought."

"Huh…" was Ron's less than articulate response.

Hermione smiled and shook her head, "Come on, Ron. Let it go. Harry's happy. And you know as well as I do that Ginny could do much worse. She's liked him forever."

"There's a truth if I ever heard one," Sirius said, "I only knew the girl for a short time, but that much was always obvious."

"You don't know the half of it," Lily said, smiling. She truly could not have been happier for her son in that moment.

After another minute, the shock in the room seemed to wear off a bit and aside from Romilda Vane who cried with her friends in the corner and Dean who pouted and drank by himself, the celebration gradually picked up again. "Where's the Cup?" someone demanded from the crowd, a brown-haired boy just slightly shorter than Ron who moved forward now, "Who's got it?"

Hermione whacked her friend's arm to get his attention and a moment later, he was drawn back into the celebration as well. And the three adults looking on from beyond the Veil remained in the Common Room for a good while after. Rare was the occasion that James and Lily did not watch over their son's every move, but if ever there was a time for some privacy, now was definitely it.

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 **Thanks for reading. Hope you enjoyed!  
**


	27. Stubborn

**Enjoy!**

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Harry set off beside the Divination professor in the direction of the Headmaster's Office, unimpressed with the eccentric Seer but clearly determined that she give her account to Albus Dumbledore about what she'd encountered in the Room of Requirement. He, of course, immediately suspected Draco Malfoy, and as James and Lily knew better than he did, Harry was not actually very wrong in doing so. However, Lily in particular worried Dumbledore would once again brush aside his concern. He was a wonderful headmaster and an exceptional wizard, but in this particular instance, she feared his general apathy toward the Draco situation would end badly for everyone.

But Harry was not one to let things go easily.

He stared intently ahead of them now as he and Sibyll Trelawney navigated the corridors, the later keeping up a constant stream of conversation as they went. "I miss having you in my classes, Harry," she said poignantly, "You were never much of a Seer… but you were a wonderful Object…" James snorted, remembering vividly Harry's experience as Trelawney's Object. It had included a great many predictions of disaster and early, painful death on his part. So far, not a single one of those predictions had come to pass—not that James wasn't incredibly grateful for this, but the point remained.

Harry, his features carefully schooled, said nothing. The Seer was not dissuaded in the slightest. She went on. "I am afraid that the nag—I'm sorry, the centaur—knows nothing of cartomancy. I asked him—one Seer to another—had he not, too, sensed the distant vibrations of coming catastrophe? But he seemed to find me almost comical. Yes, comical!" Harry again stayed silent, though he did flinch slightly, his nose wrinkling suddenly, as if suddenly assaulted by a potent smell. "Perhaps the horse has heard people say that I have not inherited my great-great-grandmother's gift," Trelawney continued on mournfully, "Those rumors have been bandied about by the jealous for years. You know what I say to such people, Harry? Would Dumbledore have let me teach at this great school, put so much trust in me all these years, had I not proved myself to him?"

Harry mumbled a rather inarticulate answer, eyes still firmly focused ahead. The Seer, apparently unfazed by his lack of response up to this point, spoke on. "I well remember my first interview with Dumbledore," she said in a guttural voice, and went on to describe a familiar scene in a room at the Hog's Head." As his parents looked on, Harry's attention was properly drawn for the first time. He looked beside him at the professor as they turned a corner. She appeared not even to notice, caught up in her narration as she was. "… I must confess that, at first, I thought he seemed ill-disposed toward Divination… and I remember I was starting to feel a little odd, I had not eaten much that day… but then… but then we were rudely interrupted by Severus Snape!"

"What?" James broke in while Lily's jaw fell open.

"What?" Harry demanded nearly simultaneously, looking suddenly like he'd been hit hard over the head.

"Yes," Trelawney went on dramatically, as if pleased with his interest in her tale, "there was a commotion outside the door and it flew open, and there was that rather uncouth barman standing with Snape, who was waffling about having come the wrong way up the stairs…" She continued on but James had stopped listening. Physiological reactions didn't work the same way beyond the Veil, but had he still been alive, he was sure blood would have pounded in his head and his vision would have been red-tinged with the sudden rage he felt.

"That slimy sod," he spat, and added, "That nosy, eavesdropping tosser," before descending into a string of far worse names for the man who had doomed his family on that fateful night. He could remember few times in life—or death—in which he'd so badly wanted to hit something—ideally Snivellus, right in his yellow teeth.

"I don't…" Lily managed through her shock, listening distantly to the rest of the professor's recount, "He wouldn't…"

"He would, Lily!" James cried, "Of course he would. He _did_. Snivellus, that bloody git, it's his fault! It's all his fault! That night would never have happened without him!" This, realistically, was probably a bit of a reach, but in his righteous anger, James did not care, "Harry would—"

"I know!" she interrupted him, her hands covering her face and a threatening sob in her voice, "My God, James, I know."

His rage vanished immediately at the sound of her voice and he looked down, his hands on his hips, and took a long, deep breath. "I know," he said quietly himself, lifting his gaze to hers now. An instant later, he was moving toward her and then holding her to him, "I know, I'm sorry. It's not your fault."

Lily buried her face in his neck, her mind moving far too quickly and the scene below with Harry all but forgotten for the moment. "I can't believe this," she whimpered. They'd known, of course, that someone had overheard the first half of the prophecy and had betrayed them to Voldemort, but to think it was Severus, the man who had once been her best friend, was almost unbearable. She felt responsible. Her husband's contact did little to comfort this feeling, but she held fast anyway.

"I can," James replied, but his voice was quieter now, not condemning. It was just a stated fact. He kissed her head and, still holding her, looked back over at Harry. He was running now, sprinting furiously away from a confused and slightly insulted-looking Sibyll Trelawney.

"You stay here!" he called angrily over his shoulder before rounding the corner and stopping at the gargoyle sentry outside the Headmaster's Office just long enough to shout the password and be granted entry.

Dumbledore, of course, was expecting him, looking out the window with a travelling cloak in hand. "Well, Harry, I promised that you could come with me."

Harry hesitated in the doorway, confusion momentarily replacing the rage in his expression. "Come… with you…?"

"Only if you wish it, of course," was the headmaster's reply.

"If I…" Harry repeated in bewilderment—clearly having forgotten completely his original intention in coming to the office before learning what he had—before realization sparked in his eyes. "You've found one? You've found a Horcrux?"

"I believe so." Emotions seemed to be fighting for dominance on Harry's face now and he seemed conflicted for several moments as excitement fought resentment. James had to admit, his interest was piqued as well.

Dumbledore apparently mistook this for fear. "It is natural to be afraid."

"I'm not scared!" Harry said quickly and firmly, "Which Horcrux is it? Where is it?"

The headmaster explained his theory some and then hesitated. "Harry, I promised you that you could come with me, and I stand by that promise, but it would be very wrong of me not to warn you that this will be exceedingly dangerous."

"I'm coming," Harry replied firmly, very nearly interrupting him, as his still-fierce anger made a clear reappearance. He seemed restless for action. Dumbledore stepped closer and examined his student.

"What has happened to you?"

The answering lie was instantaneous. "Nothing."

"What has upset you?"

"I'm not upset."

He continued to press. "Harry, you were never a good Occlumens—"

"Snape!" Harry nearly yelled, startling the Phoenix behind them, "Snape's what's happened! He told Voldemort about the prophecy, it was _him,_ he listened outside the door, Trelawney told me!"

James was glad he'd brought it up, both because Harry would need to be thinking clearly for the excursion clearly taking place tonight and because he, still angry himself, wanted an explanation as well. Lily listened

The headmaster kept his expression even, but might have paled slightly. He was quiet for a long moment before asking, "When did you find out about this?"

"Just now!" And then he was shouting, "AND YOU LET HIM TEACH HERE AND HE TOLD VOLDEMORT TO GO AFTER MY MUM AND DAD!"

Dumbledore took being yelled at in stride. He hadn't moved a muscle. James, for one, felt he rather deserved the dressing down, even if Harry was being rather disrespectful. He was certainly entitled.

"Harry," he said finally, his voice very quiet, "Please listen to me." Harry appeared to physically restrain himself from continuing to shout. Biting his lip, he eyed the headmaster, waiting. "Professor Snape made a terrible—"

"Don't tell me it was a mistake, sir, he was listening at the door!"

"Please let me finish," Dumbledore said calmly and waited until Harry regained control of himself once more and nodded tersely before continuing. "Professor Snape made a terrible mistake. He was still in Lord Voldemort's employ on the night he heard the first half of Professor Trelawney's prophecy. Naturally, he hastened to tell his master what he had heard, for it concerned his master most deeply. But he did not know—he had no possible way of knowing—which boy Voldemort would hunt from then onward, or that the parents he would destroy in his murderous quest were people that Professor Snape knew, that they were your mother and father —"

"Oh, well that's convenient," James muttered, arms still clasped lightly around Lily's waist in a loose embrace. They stood together and watched. Lily, somewhat past her initial shock and outrage, listened in interest to Dumbledore's explanation of her once-best friend's actions. She did not know exactly what to believe, or whether she really wanted to know the truth.

Harry gave a harsh laugh. "He hated my dad like he hated Sirius! Haven't you noticed, Professor, how the people Snape hates tend to end up dead?"

Even James had to take a mental step backward there. He hated Snivellus as much as anyone, but it wasn't his fault that Padfoot had died. Much as he would have loved to have another thing to blame Snape for, making it his fault took away from Sirius' sacrifice, and James did not want that at all.

Still, he could have done with a little less sympathy for the git on Dumbledore's part.

"You have no idea of the remorse Professor Snape felt when he realized how Lord Voldemort had interpreted the prophecy, Harry. I believe it to be the greatest regret of his life and the reason that he returned—"

"But _he's_ a very good Occlumens, isn't he, sir?" Harry replied in a voice that shook with violent emotion, "And isn't Voldemort convinced that Snape's on his side, even now? Professor… how can you be _sure_ Snape's on our side?"

Dumbledore simply watched his favored student for a moment, as if trying to decide on something. When he finally spoke, his voice was firm. "I am sure. I trust Severus Snape completely."

Harry appeared to make a valiant effort to control his temper. It did not appear to work. "Well, I don't!" he yelled then, ""He's up to something with Draco Malfoy right now, right under your nose, and you still—"

"We have discussed this, Harry," Dumbledore interjected sternly, "I have told you my views."

"You're leaving the school tonight, and I'll bet you haven't even considered that Snape and Malfoy might decide to—"

"To what?" he asked with raised eyebrows, "What is it you suspect them of doing, precisely?"

"This isn't going to end well," murmured James. Harry had a valid point suspecting Draco as he did, but he had cried wolf about the boy far too many times by now to be believed. Anyone could see that. Except, apparently, Harry.

"I… they're up to something!" he insisted now, and mentioned Sibyll Trelawney's encounter earlier that night.

Dumbledore was unimpressed. "Enough," he said calmly but with such authority that Harry was visibly and effectively silenced. "Do you think that I have once left the school unprotected during my absences this year? I have not. Tonight, when I leave, there will again be additional protection in place. Please do not suggest that I do not take the safety of my students seriously, Harry."

Suddenly ashamed, the young Potter mumbled, "I didn't—"

"I do not wish to discuss the matter any further." Harry stared down, apparently resigning himself to discontented silence. The headmaster watched him for a second. "Do you wish to come with me tonight?"

He looked up at once. "Yes."

"Very well then," Dumbledore said, straightening, "I take you with me on one condition: that you obey any command I might give you at once, and without question."

"Of course."

"Be sure to understand me, Harry. I mean that you must follow even such orders as 'run,' 'hide,' or 'go back.' Do I have your word?"

"I — yes, of course." Obedience did not come naturally to the son of a Marauder.

"If I tell you to hide, you will do so?"

"Yes."

"If I tell you to flee, you will obey?"

"Yes."

"If I tell you to leave me and save yourself, you will do as I tell you?"

"I —"

"Harry?"

The two stared at each other for a moment in a silent battle of wills before Harry complied. "Yes, sir."

"Very good," Dumbledore told him, "Then I wish you to go and fetch your Invisibility Cloak and meet me in the entrance hall in five minutes' time."

"He gets that from you, you know," Lily said, looking at James now as Harry made haste in leaving the office and retreating back down the spiral staircase, "That stubbornness."

He met her eyes with raised eyebrows. " _Me?_ "

"Yes, you. You're the most stubborn person I've ever met. Harry's just like you."

"Well, you aren't exactly _yielding_ yourself, love."

"James, you decided you fancied me back in school and then proceeded to ask me out at every opportunity and not take no for an answer."

"It worked, did it not?"

"How many times did I say no before finally agreeing out of exasperation?"

"Do you regret it?" he asked with feigned innocence.

"Of course not," Lily answered quickly, and then, with a faint smirk, added, "But the point remains."

James just laughed.

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	28. Aftermath

**Enjoy this update!**

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James, Lily, and Sirius watched in silence as Harry, Hagrid lumbering along beside him, made his way through the gathered students and lit wands at the foot of the Astronomy Tower, to the crumpled body of Albus Dumbledore. When the corpse came into view, Hagrid gasped aloud in disbelief and grief. Harry made not a sound, so great was his obvious pain and disbelief already. He, of course, already knew his favorite professor was gone. After all, even without the Killing Curse Snape had hit him with, no one could have survived a fall from such a height.

The crowd parted easily for them. Harry moved robotically forward, his eyes on Dumbledore's body. He reached it quickly and, with an obvious lack of concern or even awareness of those around him, he dropped to his knees beside it. He studied the face of the great wizard, peaceful in death. He reached forward to straighten the spectacles on Dumbledore's nose, and then, with the sleeve of his own robe, wiped away the blood that trickled from the corner of the old wizard's mouth. When he finished, he sat back on his haunches and simply stared down at the man who had been both a mentor and a friend. He looked like he couldn't quite believe he was gone.

Lily, who had been fighting tears for a few minutes now, finally lost the battle against them and began crying in earnest. After the Horcrux hunt, the battle, Dumbore's death, Severus' apparent betrayal; after everything, this was the final straw. She cried for Harry, for her son who had lost far too many people and whose losses just kept coming; for the fact that he'd now lost the one person who'd understood what was going on, what he was facing. He'd lost the wizard who'd always had his back and who had loved him, even when he shouldn't have. Dumbledore had been so much more than just a headmaster to Harry since the very beginning, and now he was just another of those who had perished before his young eyes.

And perished he had. There was no doubt in her mind. They had all felt it. The moment the curse had hit Albus, he was gone. He'd joined them on the other side of the Veil. He had not appeared with them as Sirius had, but none of them had ever expected him too. A deceased person appeared back with the people closest to them in life, and while they'd all been in the Order of the Phoenix together, the old wizard surely had far closer people to him. They could have gone to him even now, and Lily planned to see him at some point, to thank him for all he'd done for her family, but Harry needed them with him for the moment, even if he could never be consciously aware of their presence. His parents and his godfather would stay all the same.

The students surrounding the scene had watched Harry's display in relative silence, but as the seconds dragged on during which their peer did nothing more, increased murmuring rose up among them.

"It can't be Dumbledore. There's no way."

"You know it is."

"What is Harry _doing_?"

"Is he really dead?"

"Really, what makes Harry so special? Dumbledore was our headmaster too."

"Shh. Everyone knows they were close. Have some respect."

Harry seemed impervious to all of it. Grief was clear in his features as he stared down at Dumbledore, but his eyes were dry. The same could not be said of Hagrid behind him.

Eventually, he glanced down and, shifting slightly, pulled the locket, the purpose of the night's deadly outing in the first place, from the spot where his knee had formerly been. It was open, likely from the fall, and inside, oddly, was wedged a folded piece of parchment. This elicited no reaction from Harry, who simply pulled the parchment out and read it by the light of the gathered wands behind him.

James leaned forward, squinting over his son's shoulder, and read the missive to 'the Dark Lord' aloud for their little group. "I know I will be dead long before you read this but I want you to know that it was I who discovered your secret. I have stolen the real Horcrux and intend to destroy it as soon as I can. I face death in the hope that when you meet your match, you… will be mortal once more." He trailed off with the end of the sentence and swallowed as the weight of these words registered with him.

"The Horcrux is fake," Sirius summarized hollowly, "It… it was all for _nothing?_ "

James inhaled deeply, released his breath slowly, and then swore. The three watched in somber silence as Harry, after staring unseeingly down at the piece of parchment for several seconds—maybe in disbelief, he crumpled it violently in his palm and looked back at the prone form that had once been Albus Dumbledore, tears finally flooding his eyes as howling rose up behind him.

Hagrid quieted Fang with a few comforting pats to the head and then stepped forward, closing the short distance between himself and where Harry knelt on the ground. He reached an unsteady hand forward and set it on his shoulder. "C'mere, Harry."

"No."

"Yeh can' stay here, Harry… Come on, now…."

"No." Harry's lip trembled slightly and he bit it, making no effort to comply with the half-giant's request. Hagrid, for his part, glanced around slightly helplessly now and looked back at Harry again, looking unsure of how to proceed.

As it turned out, he didn't have to. Ginny Weasley had recently joined the crowd and had been fighting her way through to the front, with use of some threats and minor language towards those who impeded her path. She broke free of the throng now and moved forward. Hagrid caught sight of her and, appearing relieved, stepped aside to allow the young witch her turn. "Harry, come on," she said gently, replacing Hagrid's hand on his shoulder with her own.

This time, Harry did not protest. In fact, he did not react much at all except to stand now and move away from the scene, looking haggard. "Thank Merlin," Sirius murmured, "Get him away from there."

Harry seemed to move more out of instinct more than will, trancelike. The surrounding crowd was bustling and noisy as they made their way silently through it. The students mostly parted easily for them. Ginny led Harry across the grounds and up the stairs to the entrance hall. He took it all in but didn't seem to really see much of anything.

"We're going to the Hospital Wing," Ginny informed him finally.

"I'm not hurt," was his immediate and characteristic response. It almost elicited a smile from his parents looking on. "

"It's McGonagall's orders," Ginny explained. "Everyone's up there, Ron and Hermione and Lupin and everyone—"

Emotion flashed across Harry's face for the first time since he'd left Dumbledore's body. It was fear this time rather than grief. "Ginny, who else is dead?"

"Don't worry," she replied quickly, "none of us."

He was quick to protest. "But the Dark Mark—Malfoy said he stepped over a body—"

"He stepped over Bill, but it's all right, he's alive."

"Are you sure?"

"Of course I'm sure," she answered, "He's a—a bit of a mess, that's all." And she told him what had happened with Greyback. The young witch's voice trembled slightly as she explained, but she didn't waver. Bill would live, she said, as would Neville and Professor Flitwick who'd both been injured as well. The only casualty had been on the side of the Death Eaters, which she did not seem particularly remorseful about. James didn't blame her a bit.

They entered the Hospital Wing, where Harry was greeted with a hug from Hermione. Remus, close behind her and looking anxious, asked, "Are you all right, Harry?"

"I'm fine," he answered quickly, "How's Bill?"

He took in the oldest Weasley sibling with shock, so bad were his injuries. Poppy Pomfrey, tending to his destroyed face, explained the consequences of the cursed bites. "I've tried everything I know, but there is no cure for werewolf bites."

"But he wasn't bitten at the full moon," Ron protested, looking as attempting to mend his brother's wounds by sheer force of will, "Greyback hadn't transformed, so surely Bill won't be a—a real—?"

He looked to Remus for answers. Moony informed him that Bill most likely wouldn't turn fully into a werewolf, but would probably still be affected long-term in some capacity.

"Dumbledore might know something that'd work, though," Ron suggested. "Where is he? Bill fought those maniacs on Dumbledore's orders, Dumbledore owes him, he can't leave him in this state—"

"Ron—Dumbledore's dead," Ginny interrupted.

Remus reacted most violently to this proclamation. "No!" he cried in disbelief, looking from Ginny to Harry as if hoping for contradiction of this fact. When it didn't come, he flung himself down in a chair beside Bill's bed and put his face in his hands. It was a heartbreaking sight, especially for those who knew him best. Moony was so rarely caught off guard like this. It pained James immensely to see him now and one glance beside him confirmed Sirius felt similarly. Harry, maybe to allow his trusted teacher and friend some privacy, looked back at Ron, who held his gaze and then looked devastated at the silent confirmation that passed between them.

The whole thing was horrible, truly.

"How did he die?" Nymphadora Tonks, speaking for the first time since Harry's arrival, asked, "How did it happen?"

"Snape killed him," Harry said to her and everyone, "I was there, I saw it." He went on to explain his experience earlier that night in the Astronomy Tower, with Dumbledore and the Death Eaters and Draco Malfoy. And Severus Snape. When he reached the part of Dumbledore's death, he broke off, unable to continue.

In the midst of the grief in the room, a Phoenix song sounded from somewhere outside and the occupants quieted for several minutes, listening to it.

"I don't understand," Sirius said now, in the midst of the silence, "Dumbledore had a plan. He always did, but this…" he shook his head, at a loss.

"Snivellus betrayed him," James offered as an explanation to his best friend. His voice held no angry inflection. They were past that. By now, it was simply a fact. "Harry tried to tell him. It was too little, too late, I guess."

Lily said nothing. Even having seen it with her own eyes, she still struggled to accept the reality. It just didn't seem right that Severus had truly done this. Turning them in to Voldemort, she could understand, as he had not known the prophecy in its entirety or its specifics. The Severus she knew had been lonely and misguided, longing for acceptance and power in the wrong places, and not always one to think his decisions through. He'd done some horrible things, yes. But he was not a murderer. She was sure of this. Misguided as her faith in him clearly was after the night's events, she simply could not make herself believe it.

She wondered instead what everyone was supposed to do now, what Harry was. She wondered if he could take it. He was so strong, but how much more would he be required to endure? It was monumentally unfair. He was just sixteen!

Minerva McGonagall joined them eventually, brining with her news that Molly and Arthur were on their way. She turned her eyes on the Potter's son. "Harry, what happened? According to Hagrid you were with Professor Dumbledore when he—when it happened. He says Professor Snape was involved in some—"

"Snape killed Dumbledore," Harry told her dully.

Minerva had been at Hogwarts since James and Lily's own time in school, and never had either of them seen her rattled. Not like this. She stared at Harry for a moment and then swayed suddenly under the weight of this news. Poppy rushed forward and slid a conjured chair under her before she could fall. She fell into it, looking dazed. "Snape," she repeated absently, "We all wondered… but he trusted… always… Snape... I can't believe it…"

"Snape was a highly accomplished Occlumens," Remus broke in now with surprising venom in his voice, "We always knew that." His anger was satisfying to James, who was unsurprised to note their friend had not questioned Harry's account for a second.

"But Dumbledore swore he was on our side!" whispered Tonks. "I always thought Dumbledore must know something about Snape that we didn't…"

Minerva muttered a reply to this, dabbing now at wet eyes with a handkerchief. "He always hinted that he had an ironclad reason for trusting Snape. I mean… with Snape's history… of course people were bound to wonder… but Dumbledore told me explicitly that Snape's repentance was absolutely genuine… Wouldn't hear a word against him!"

"I'd love to know what Snape told him to convince him," Tonks added skeptically.

"I know," Harry said, drawing the attention of all in the room, "Snape passed Voldemort the information that made Voldemort hunt down my mum and dad. Then Snape told Dumbledore he hadn't realized what he was doing, he was really sorry he'd done it, sorry that they were dead." A pin drop could have been heard in the resulting silence.

"And Dumbledore believed that?" Remus demanded incredulously, breaking it. "Dumbledore believed Snape was sorry James was dead? Snape _hated_ James…"

" _Thank_ you," James muttered.

"And he didn't think my mother was worth a damn either," added Harry, "because she was Muggle-born… 'Mudblood,' he called her…"

" _That's_ not true," Lily murmured now, mostly to herself as she remembered the very day he was referencing. That had been the final straw. She turned her back on Severus for good then, and she regretted it to this very day. How different things might have been, if only she hadn't given up on him…

"Yes, it is, Lil," James said gently, looking at her. "We were all there." He wasn't blind or unsympathetic to the way she still felt regarding the man who had once, somehow, been her best friend. He knew this was awful for her. He simply couldn't help himself at times when it came to the git. Part of the reason he hated him so much was because he'd hurt Lily so badly. Up until that point, he'd simply not liked his interest in dark magic. He wasn't ignorant of the fact that he and his friends could have been much nicer to the wizard as kids, but they'd been young and stupid. And there was never a good enough reason to do the things Snivellus had done.

Lily shook her head in reply to her husband's comment. "He called me that, yes. But he regretted it. And I know he didn't think I was worthless. You, maybe, but not me."

"Doesn't change what he did," Sirius said, his tone soft but straightforward.

With a sigh, she glanced down and, fighting the urge to cry again, simply admitted, "I know."

James sighed himself and wrapped a comforting arm around her.

The occupants of the Hospital Wing, after a short moment of shocked silence at Harry's words, broke into discussion once more of the night's events. Many blamed themselves for what had happened. McGonagall, for calling Snape in at all. Ron, for letting Malfoy get past them. Hermione, for listening to Snape and going to Filius Flitwick's aid and allowing him access to the Astronomy tower. Ot one of them was really at fault; it was grief talking.

The breakdown of the night's events continued, in great detail and with much regret from the battle's various members, until Harry filled in the final detail of Tonk's recount. Snape had shouted something at the end of the fighting, which had resulted in the departure of the rest of the Death Eaters, however she, nor anyone else, had heard what it was. "He shouted, 'It's over,'" supplied Harry in a somber voice. "He'd done what he'd meant to do."

Silence fell in the room again as this news sank in with everyone present. The Phoenix's lament continued to sound from outside. The quiet held until the door of the Hospital Wing burst open and Molly and Arthur Weasley hurried inside.

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	29. Funeral

**Hey guy! Sorry for the wait. Things have been busy to say the least and with classes starting tomorrow, I can't say that's bound to change, really. However, I will try to update as often as I can. Thank you for all your support.**

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The change in Harry happened so fast, his parents and godfather looking on might have missed it had they blinked. One second, he looked to be genuinely struggling to keep a straight face as the stuffy old officiating wizard in black robes droned on blandly about Albus Dumbledore's 'intellectual contribution' to the Wizarding world, as if Harry simply couldn't find it within himself to take the situation seriously—and admittedly, the funeral seemed to some far more a political event than a memorial to a tremendous man and wizard—and found the mermaids' mournful music far more interesting. An instant later, however, as if the crushing reality hit him, finally and all at once, his face crumbled and he looked away from the crowd, the funeral, and his girlfriend beside him as tears began to fill his eyes. The locket, recovered from that fateful night, was clutched in his free hand and he tightened his grip on the necklace now, easily to the point of pain.

James sighed, watching, and took hold of Lily's hand beside him. Fighting tears herself, she squeezed his hand lightly in reply. She knew it was not the funeral that had induced his tears, but the realization of yet another mentor and friend lost. Harry did not deserve this, and while she knew as well as any of them that he needed to grieve, she wished he'd still been fighting amusement at the pomposity of the ceremony.

And amusement was a rather appropriate reaction, given the personality of the man the event was meant to memorialize.

Lily and James had gotten the opportunity to see Albus after he'd arrived on this side of the Veil. It had proven a rather difficult task to get him away from his family, particularly his younger sister, for any great amount of time, but they'd spoken for a few moments. Both had felt it important to thank the man for all he'd done for their family and Lily, albeit tearfully, had embraced him in thanks for the love he'd shown Harry when he'd received so little of it elsewhere in his life.

Albus was back once more with his family now, but it wasn't hard to imagine the old wizard's reaction to such an ostentatious display in his honor. He had been respected and well loved, surely, and deserved the large turnout, but the Potters found it hard to believe he'd enjoy the politics of it all any more than they would.

It took Harry the better part of a minute before he regained control of himself once more and a firm determination replaced the grief in his features. He seemed to have made a decision of some sort and, though he looked rather upset, he would not be shedding any more tears for the moment.

The funeral ended with a flair characteristic of the old wizard when Dumbledore's body erupted suddenly in a blinding white flame which vanished a second later to reveal the white marble tomb in its place. After a moment's shocked silence, mourning guests began getting to their feet, subdued conversation starting up all around. Harry glanced beside him at the faces of Ron and Hermione, whose grief still showed on their faces, and then at Ginny, who was no longer crying as she had been. She did not appear sad at all anymore, but rather wore a hard, blazing look that seemed to communicate some unspoken agreement between the two.

"Something's going on," Sirius murmured, looking between them. Lily offered a small nod of agreement that he may not have seen. Knowing Harry, she had a pretty good idea what it was, and the idea both broke her heart and amazed her.

"Don't do anything stupid," James murmured, a quiet plea to their son. He recognized that look in his eyes. It was one Harry wore often, one of fierce determination and stubborn selflessness. It was a look that usually preceded decisions that hurt him in some way.

The young Potter appeared to silently steel himself before speaking. The buzz of conversations around them grew louder. None of them made any effort to stand with the rest of the crowd, but Ron and Hermione paid them little attention. "Ginny, listen…" Harry said quietly, "I can't be involved with you anymore. We've got to stop seeing each other. We can't be together."

James blinked while Ginny's lips curled into a slightly twisted smile. He didn't know what he'd been expecting, but it wasn't that. Harry had never looked as happy as he had in the weeks since kissing Ginny in the common room. "What—"

"It's for some stupid, noble reason, isn't it?" she asked him, interrupting James.

"It's been like… like something out of someone else's life, these last few weeks with you," he replied, not exactly answering the question. "But I can't… we can't… I've got things to do alone now."

"Oh, Harry," Lily whispered, heartbroken but so, so proud. Ginny, for her part, did not betray an ounce of emotion. She met his gaze evenly, waiting for him to go on.

He did. "Voldemort uses people his enemies are close to. He's already used you as bait once, and that was just because you're my best friend's sister. Think how much danger you'll be in if we keep this up. He'll know, he'll find out. He'll try and get to me through you."

"What if I don't care?" she demanded fiercely.

"I care," he countered, "How do you think I'd feel if this was your funeral… and it was my fault…"

She looked away from him now and was silent for a moment. "I never really gave up on you," she said then, her eyes on the lake beside them. "Not really. I always hoped… Hermione told me to get on with life, maybe go out with some other people, relax a bit around you, because I never used to be able to talk if you were in the room, remember? And she thought you might take a bit more notice if I was a bit more—myself."

Harry's rather pitiful attempt at a smile was the only betrayal of how truly difficult this was for him. "Smart girl, that Hermione," he said. "I just wish I'd asked you sooner. We could've had ages… months… years maybe…"

"But you've been too busy saving the Wizarding world," said Ginny, half laughing. She was being remarkably strong. "Well… I can't say I'm surprised. I knew this would happen in the end. I knew you wouldn't be happy unless you were hunting Voldemort. Maybe that's why I like you so much."

Harry looked away now, like he couldn't stand to hear this. He made a vague, miserable gesture and stood; turning his back on the witch they all knew he cared so deeply for, and on the dwindling crowds and the marble coffin glimmering in the sun. He walked away, around the lake, leaving Ginny to stare stoically after him and explain to Ron and Hermione what had happened herself.

Lily sighed, her eyes on Ginny, who swallowed and took a deep, rather shaky breath, her eyes lingering on Harry's back for an extra moment, before, her features schooled once more, she turned away. "That poor girl," she said softly.

"She knew what she was getting into with him," Sirius said with quiet confidence. "She knew the risk, and though I'm sure it boils her blood to be left out of everything Harry has to do, she understands."

"She's strong," James added, agreeing, "Merlin, she's perfect for him." He shook his head. "I can't fault him though."

"He's right about Voldemort," Sirius said quietly.

James nodded. "He's got to do it alone."

"He won't be alone," Lily said, her eyes on Ron and Hermione, who were questioning Ginny now as Harry drew farther away.

"No," agreed Sirius, following her gaze, "And I really wouldn't quite put it past those three to win this whole god-forsaken thing."

"Or die trying," James added. He hated the thought as much as anyone, but it wasn't one they could simply ignore.

"I suppose that's the only consolation we've got," Sirius replied quietly.

Rufus Scrimgeor was limping rapidly toward Harry now and calling after him. Harry stopped, looking less than pleased to see the Minister of Magic, but allowed him to catch up and talk with him. Lily bristled, but watched the ensuing conversation. James didn't bother. He felt for Harry, and for Ginny, and he wished it didn't have to be this way. He understood why his son did what he did, and he was so immensely proud of the selflessness it took to do such a thing. He might even have agreed with his reasoning. Yet, he still wished they could stay happy and together just a little longer. For both of their sakes. Especially after his and Lily's own experience.

Darkness was coming, and it was likely none of them had much time left. They deserved every happiness they could get until it did.

And if, by some miracle, Harry and his friends managed to survive the nightmarish times ahead, he thought he and Ginny might just come together again.

And, Merlin, he hoped they did.

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	30. Dursleys Departing

**Hello! Here is another update for you, posted while waiting for a hurricane to hit. With the time home, at least pending internet access and the length of my laptop battery, I'm hoping to get some more writing done, both for this story and others, but we'll see.**

 **I didn't originally plan to write this scene, but I reread through it and decided Harry's sass and the proof of Dudley's feelings was too good not to write. Enjoy!**

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Neither Potter was blind to the fact that their son was in a right state. With everything going on, not the least of which was having been back at Privet Drive for the summer, he had every right to be. Even without Lily's truly atrocious relatives to deal with, Harry had a lot going on. Still, James unabashedly found amusement in his son's handling of the people that were, in the very loosest of terms, his family in light of his understandably short temper.

Currently, Harry stood in the living room, hands in the pockets of his oversized jeans and his face impassive as he eyed Vernon Dursely, waiting, after being forcefully and rudely summoned from upstairs. "Yes?" he asked blandly.

"Sit down!" Vernon commanded and Lily bristled, as she often did, at his tone. Harry only raised his eyebrows. "Please," her brother-in-law added grudgingly and as if the word caused him physical pain.

Harry sat and then waited with no obvious curiosity as his uncle began to pace the living room with the eyes of his wife and son on him. Finally, looking like a blood vessel could burst in his neck at any moment, he stopped before his nephew again and announced, "I've changed my mind."

"What a surprise," Harry replied, unimpressed. James smirked.

"Don't you take that tone—" Petunia piped up shrilly, but broke off when Vernon raised a hand to silence her, glaring eyes not leaving his nephew's face.

"It's all a lot of claptrap," he said, "I've decided I don't believe a word of it. We're staying put, we're not going anywhere." Harry simply looked up at his uncle, unimpressed. The man had, after all, changed his mind once a day, everyday, over the course of the past month. Resuming his pacing once more, Vernon continued now, "According to you, we—Petunia, Dudley, and I—are in danger. From—from—"

"Some of 'my lot,' right," said Harry dryly.

"Well, I don't believe it," Vernon repeated, stopping in front of him again, "I was awake half the night thinking it all over, and I believe it's a plot to get the house."

"The house?" repeated Harry, "What house?"

" _This_ house! _Our_ house! House prices are skyrocketing around here! You want us out of the way and then you're going to do a bit of hocus-pocus and before we know it the deeds will be in your name and—"

"Are you out of your mind?" the Potter demanded, his own voice raising now, "A plot to get this house? Are you actually as stupid as you look?"

"Don't you dare—!" Petunia piped up again, waved off once more by her husband, who seemed far too interested in his own revelation to concern himself with the insult.

"Just in case you've forgotten," Harry went on now, "I've already got a house, my godfather left me one. So why would I want this one? All the happy memories?"

This particular remark was met with silence, which James found particularly gratifying. Sadly, it did not last long and Vernon took up pacing yet again. "You claim," he said, "that this Lord Thing—"

"—Voldemort, and we've been through this about a hundred times already. This isn't a claim, it's fact, Dumbledore told you last year, and Kingsley and Mr. Weasley—" Vernon's shoulders hunched at the mention of the members of the wizarding community. Harry continued on mercilessly. "—Kingsley and Mr. Weasley explained it all as well." He ran through the situation once more anyway. Once he was seventeen, the protections on him would vanish and Voldemort would come. Privet Drive would be the first place he looked, and the Dursleys would be in danger of torture or worse at his hand. Vernon glanced up at Harry once and he paused, but went on when the man looked away and continued his efforts to wear through the carpet once more. "You've got to go into hiding and the Order wants to help. You're being offered serious protection, the best there is."

"Not that you deserve it," James muttered. Lily elbowed him and he looked at her. "What? You can't honestly tell me the thought hasn't crossed your mind." She eyed him silently and then looked away but made no effort to hide her thoughts from her eyes. If anyone wanted a chance at the Dursleys, they'd need to get in line—and by now, it was quite a long line indeed.

The silence and the pacing continued in the living room. Finally and abruptly Vernon spoke again. "I thought there was a Ministry of Magic?"

"There is." The surprise at the question was clear on Harry's face.

"Well, then, why can't they protect us? It seems to me that, as innocent victims, guilty of nothing more than harboring a marked man, we ought to qualify for government protection!"

Harry actually laughed and then went on to explain why the Ministry, in its current state, was far from a viable option. Vernon then, after apparently accepting this, wanted to know why they couldn't have "that Kingsley bloke" for their protection detail. The young Potter explained, with no small amount of annoyance now, that he was busy with other matters and that Hestia Jones and Dedalus Diggle were more than up to the task. Vernon's only response was an unhappy grumbling about a lack of CVs. James made a mental note to ask Lily what those were at a later time.

Harry finally seemed to have had enough. He got to his feet and forcefully crossed the room toward his impossible relative. "These accidents aren't accidents—the crashes and explosions and derailments and whatever else has happened since we last watched the news. People are disappearing and dying and he's behind it—Voldemort. I've told you this over and over again, he kills Muggles for fun. Even the fogs—they're caused by dementors, and if you can't remember what they are, ask your son!"

Dudley abruptly raised his hands to his mouth and then, with the eyes of his family on him, lowered them again. "There are… more of them?"

"More?" Harry laughed cruelly, "More than the two that attacked us, you mean? Of course there are, there are hundreds, maybe thousands by this time, seeing as they feed off fear and despair—"

"All right, all right," Vernon broke in, "You've made your point."

"I hope so," said Harry, "because once I'm seventeen, all of them—Death Eaters, dementors, maybe even Inferi—which means dead bodies enchanted by a Dark wizard—will be able to find you and will certainly attack you. And if you remember the last time you tried to outrun wizards, I think you'll agree you need help."

There was another silence then in which Petunia stared at Vernon staring at Harry. And for a brief moment, one might have believed the dense man was finally going to make a reasonable decision. Until he spoke again, that is.

"But what about my work? What about Dudley's school? I don't suppose those things matter to a bunch of layabout wizards —"

Lily rolled her eye and looked away in disgust. "Oh, for the love of—"

"Don't you understand?" Harry yelled now, " _They will torture and kill you like they did my parents_!" His words were, as always, a punch in the gut for James and Lily, but there was no mistaking the truth or the passion in the statement.

It was Dudley, rather than Vernon, who spoke now, his voice loud and sure. "Dad. Dad—I'm going with these Order people."

"Dudley," Harry said, "for the first time in your life, you're talking sense."

And that was all. The battle was won. What Diddykins wanted, Diddykins got.

Harry retreated back upstairs and did not return again until the magical protection detail arrived.

* * *

"Good day to you, Harry Potter's relatives!" a happy Dedalus Diggle called a few minutes later, striding into the living room where the Dursleys still waited, looking far from pleased at being addressed as such. James chuckled at the look of near-constipation that crossed Vernon's features in particular.

After a brief and uneventful—or as close to it as could be accomplished when it came to dealing with Vernon Dursley—overview of the plan, Lily's relatives were ready to depart.

"Well, are we all packed and ready to go?" Dedalus asked of them.

Hestia, with a sympathetic glance toward Harry and his family, murmured, "Perhaps we should wait outside in the hall, Dedalus." As if they would intrude on a heartfelt and private goodbye if they remained.

Harry muttered the unnecessary of this but Vernon spoke over him. "Well, this is good-bye, then, boy," he said and swung an arm forward as if to shake his nephew's hand, but apparently couldn't bring himself to follow through and brought his closed fist quickly away. Harry didn't look particularly affected.

"Ready, Diddy?" Petunia asked her son, but received no answer from Dudley. He was busy staring dumbly at Harry.

"Come along, then," said Vernon, already walking toward the door. Dudley, however, did not move immediately.

"I don't understand," he said at last.

"What don't you understand, popkin?" Petunia asked.

He pointed a meaty hand at his cousin. "Why isn't he coming with us?"

Dudley's parents both froze at this and stared at their son for this preposterous question. "What?" Vernon loudly demanded.

"Why isn't he coming too?" Dudley repeated.

"Well, he—he doesn't want to." The glare cast Harry's way then told the Potter he'd better agree. "You don't want to, do you?"

"Not in the slightest," Harry answered with conviction. Of course he didn't, and he couldn't even if he'd wanted to, but Lily almost wished he would anyway, if only because it was the far safer option for him. Unrealistic as that hope was.

"There you are," Vernon said to Dudley. "Now, come on. We're off." He turned and left once more, all the way to the front door. But when he opened it and Dudley still hadn't moved, he turned and stormed back again. "What now?"

Dudley looked to be caught in the middle of a rather difficult battle of conscience. After several moments, he managed, "But where's he going to go?" Vernon and Petunia exchanged worried glances.

Hestia who, along with Dedalus, had stood watching the whole exchange, broke in now. "But… surely you know where your nephew is going?" She looked between the two, baffled.

"Certainly we know," said Vernon flippantly, "He's off with some of your lot, isn't he? Right, Dudley, let's get in the car, you heard the man, we're in a hurry." Again he turned for the door and again Dudley did not follow.

Hestia, meanwhile, looked outraged. "Off with some of _our_ lot?"

"It's fine," Harry assured her quickly, "It doesn't matte, honestly."

The witch looked thoroughly unconvinced of this. Her voice continued to rise as she spoke. "Doesn't matter? Don't these people realize what you've been through? What danger you are in? The unique position you hold in the hearts of the anti- Voldemort movement?"

"Er—no, they don't," Harry answered, "They think I'm a waste of space, actually, but I'm used to—"

"I don't think you're a waste of space."

Lily and James simultaneously raised their eyebrows in surprise at Dudley's words.

Harry stared at his cousin in blatant shock. And understandably so. This was the same boy who had spent the majority of his life beating on Harry for laughs and watching his parents abuse and neglect him at every chance. It was several seconds before the young Potter recovered enough to say awkwardly, "Well… er… thanks, Dudley."

But Dudley wasn't finished. After obvious effort, maybe to put into words feelings he'd never previously experienced, he told his cousin, "You saved my life."

"Not really," said Harry uncomfortably. "It was your soul the dementor would have taken…"

The two stared at each other then for several seconds, though no one said anything further. A moment later, Petunia burst into tears and ran to hug her massive son to her, blubbering about how sweet and lovely "Dudders" was for "s-saying thank you." And the moment was lost. James rolled his eyes in disgust. He still struggled to fathom how it was possible that Lily shared blood with this woman.

"But he hasn't said thank you at all!" Hestia indignantly broke in again now, "He only said he didn't think Harry was a waste of space!"

"Yeah, but coming from Dudley that's like 'I love you,'" Harry told her blandly, eyeing his Aunt still clutching his cousin with an expression both of annoyance and great amusement.

Vernon appeared once more in the living room now and demanded, "Are we going or not? I thought we were on a tight schedule!"

"Yes—yes, we are," Dedalus, who looked to be recovering from great confusion, said now stepped forward. "We really must be off. Harry," he stepped forward and vigorously shook the young wizard's hand, "good luck. I hope we meet again. The hopes of the Wizarding world rest upon your shoulders."

"Oh," said Harry, "right. Thanks."

"No pressure of anything," James remarked dryly.

Hestia stepped forward then and clasped his hand herself. "Farewell, Harry. Our thoughts go with you."

"I hope everything's okay," he replied with a not-so-subtle glance toward Petunia and Dudley.

"Oh, I'm sure we shall end up the best of chums," Dedalus said brightly, waving his hat in farewell as he left the room, Hestia following close behind. Harry did not look very sure of this himself. James wished the Aurors luck.

Dudley disentangled himself from his mother and crossed to Harry now. He offered his pink hand in farewell as Petunia's sobs renewed. Lily shook her head at her sister, but watched her nephew and her son with interest and maybe even the tiniest of smiles.

Harry looked simply astounded. "Blimey, Dudley, did the dementors blow a different personality into you?"

"Dunno. See you, Harry."

"Yeah…" Harry said distantly before taking his cousin's lard hand in his own and shaking it. "Maybe. Take care, Big D."

With nearly a smile, Dudley turned and took his leave, and as the sound of his footfalls faded outside, Harry and Petunia were left alone in the living room. Petunia, lifting her face from the handkerchief in which it had previously been buried, looked up now and glanced around in some surprise. Apparently she'd never meant to be alone with her sister's son. Shoving her used handkerchief in her pocket now, she said stiffly, "Well—good-bye," and then marched for the door.

"Good-bye."

At her nephew's words, she stopped and glanced back at him. From the expression that briefly crossed her featured, Lily wondered if her sister would say something more, but in the end she only gave a short jerk of the head and continued out of the room, leaving Harry alone in the house for probably the last time.

James was shaking his head. "What a nasty piece of work. Vernon too. They don't even deserve the protection they're getting."

"She's my sister, James," Lily reminded him without much conviction.

"Still."

"I know." She'd long since made piece with the unhappy fate Petunia had chosen when it came to their relationship. And any hope that might have existed prior to hers and James' deaths had long since vanished in light of the treatment Harry received at her family's hand. "But Dudley…"

James sighed. "Though it pains me to say it, there may just be hope for him yet."

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 **Thank you for reading. Stay safe, everyone!  
**


	31. Privet Drive Escape

**Hello!**

 **Here is another of those updates I mentioned. Enjoy!**

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It was one of the strangest things James and Lily had ever beheld as they looked on at the scene playing out in the Dursleys' kitchen, where not one, not two, but seven Harry Potters now stood. It was not at all difficult to know which was the real, of course, both because of the slight aura around him, perceptible to those beyond the Veil, which distinguished him as him, as well as the decidedly unhappy expression still upon his face. The stubborn, self-sacrificing wizard was still annoyed with losing the argument against everyone else present not to go through with the escape plan.

Lily found herself deeply touched at the willingness of the gathered group to risk life and limb to protect her son. James, for the millionth time, was wishing he could help himself.

"Do you think this will work?" Lily asked him now. She wasn't overly confident herself and the thought worried her.

"I suppose it has to," James replied.

"That's reassuring."

He shrugged. "It wouldn't be the first time he's survived against the odds." Lily did not reply. No, it definitely would not. They would just have to hope for yet another miracle.

Harry currently stood watching his clones shuffle around, rummaging through sacks, swapping clothes, and assessing their altered appearances. He looked slightly embarrassed.

"I knew Ginny was lying about that tattoo," Ron said with satisfaction, studying his—Harry's—bare chest in between swapping shirts.

Hermione followed up with, "Harry, your eyesight really is awful," as she slid a set of glasses on her face. James laughed. Only the truest of friends would say such things.

"Poor Harry," Lily said in amused sympathy, smirking herself.

"Well, isn't _this_ a sight for sore eyes," announced a voice from beside the two. Sirius had joined them and stood to James' right, watching with them now.

"They're trying to get Harry away before Voldemort can get to him," Lily supplied helpfully.

Sirius pursed his lips and nodded. "I guess Polyjuice is as solid a plan as any. Let me guess, our boy's unhappy everyone is risking their tails for him."

"Right in one," James said.

Sirius snorted. "'Course. Well, I, for one, am glad they are." The Potters nodded their agreement.

As they spoke, the numerous Harrys and their escorts had gone about completing their disguises while Mad-Eye Moody assigned partners and modes of transport, with only mild joking on the parts of Fred and George Weasley. When all were divided up, Hagrid spoke up, looking a bit unsure. "An' you're with me, Harry. That all righ'? We'll be on the bike, brooms an' thestrals can't take me weight, see. Not a lot o' room on the seat with me on it, though, so you'll be in the sidecar."

"That's great," Harry replied, with only the tiniest inflection in his tone to suggest it maybe wasn't.

With some final words from Mad-Eye, Harry rushed to retrieve his things from the hall and joined the rest of the party out in the back garden. Hagrid waited beside the tricked out motorbike that had once belonged to Sirius. Harry approached him, eyeing it with interest. "Is this it?" he asked, "Is this Sirius' bike?"

"I loved that thing!" Sirius said wistfully, grinning.

"The very same," Hagrid answered with a smile, "An' the last time yeh was on it, Harry, I could fit yeh in one hand!"

Harry did not reply as he made to squeeze into the sidecar with his rucksack, broomstick, and Hedwig's cage. It was a tight squeeze and he looked uncomfortable and mildly embarrassed. Ron's smirk probably didn't help matters much. Hagrid went on, oblivious to his young friend's unease, explaining the tinkering Arthur Weasley had done with the bike and the bells and whistles it now possessed, even as Arthur advised him to be careful and did not seem all that confident himself. This was slightly worrying, but before anyone could say more, Moody spoke up. It was time to go.

Wizards mounted brooms and thestrals. Hagrid kicked the motorbike to life. As one, they took to the skies.

Trouble found them almost immediately. Death Eaters surrounded them and Hagrid, during his evasive maneuvers, nearly sent Harry and all his belongings toppling to the ground. The young wizard, holding on for dear life, just barely managed to save his sack and the owl. The same could not be said of the Firebolt. It free fell toward the earth.

A painful sound escaped James' lips at the loss. " _That's_ a shame," Sirius murmured. Lily would have rolled her eyes at the men, had they not been so busy watching her son's every movement.

The break lasted only a second, and they were taking fire again. In the blink of an eye, a green jet of light hit Hedwig's cage and the owl screeched, and then fell, lifeless, to the bottom.

Harry's cry was like a knife through Lily's shattered heart. "No—NO!"

James cursed loudly. Sirius, beside him, seemed shocked into silence. His eyes remained glued to the scene. Harry was still screaming as Hagrid flew in between the hooded figures.

"Hedwig— _Hedwig_ —" Harry's green eyes were wide with shock and despair as he eyed the body of his lifeless pet—his first birthday present and his first friend. But she was gone.

In that moment, dismayed screeching sounded behind them and Hedwig appeared, flying frantically around the three of them, trying desperately to reach the owner and master she was now forever separated from. With tears in her eyes, Lily removed one of the hands that had been covering her mouth and reached up toward the snowy owl. It took a few seconds, but one look into her eyes—the same shade as Harry's, and Hedwig calmed down enough to land on her forearm. Lily pulled the owl close and stroked her feathers, as much an effort to comfort herself as the owl.

Harry had, by now, noticed the friends they were leaving behind, and he cried out to Hagrid now to turn around, to go back for them. Hagrid did no such thing and Harry kept yelling. "My job's ter get you there safe, Harry!" the half-giant bellowed now, opening the throttle up further.

"Stop—STOP!" Harry cried once more, but by now the Death Eaters were too numerous and too close, jets of green light flying far too near. Hagrid swerved left and right and Harry ducked down low in the cart, occasionally sending red jets back in reply.

"Hold on, Harry, this'll do for 'em!" Hagrid roared, punching a button near the fuel gauge and releasing a solid brick wall behind them. One Death Eater slammed into it. Three more flew around. Killing spells continued flying. Harry continued countering. Hagrid sent a net behind them now, to no avail. "This'll do it, Harry, hold on tight!" He slammed his hand down, depressing the large purple button beside the speedometer. Dragon fire exploded from the exhaust and the motorbike shot forward like an arrow shot from a bow, leaving the Death Eaters to scatter out of the way of the flames. Hagrid was thrown flat on his back. No one was steering.

But the sidecar was swaying dangerously now, and, caught in the bike's slipstream, it began twisting sickeningly. "I'm on it, Harry, don' worry!" Hagrid yelled, pulling his flowery pink umbrella from a jacket pocket.

"Hagrid! No!" Harry cried, "Let me!"

" _REPARO!_ " Hagrid cast the spell before Harry could stop him and a loud bang resounded as the sidecar separated completely.

Still perched on Lily's arm, Hedwig spread her wings in surprise at the noise. "Oh, God," James groaned.

Harry, thankfully, reacted before he could fall to his death. " _Wingardium Leviosa_!" The sidecar floated freely now, uncontrolable but no longer falling.

Hagrid tried desperately to reach him now, dodging jinxes one after another. "I'm comin', Harry, I'm comin'!" he cried desperately. Harry ducked down low in the car. It was only by his quick spellwork that he wasn't overcome by Voldemort's followers before the half-giant reached him.

Hagrid clasped the Potter's son by the back of his robes and hauled him onto the motorbike behind him. He flew on, apologizing profusely and navigating, while Harry, back-to-back with him, handled defense.

Then came the Night Bus driver, and Harry's yell of " _Expelliarmus_!"

"Oh, Harry," Lily groaned, aware instantly of the huge mistake he'd just made, even if he wasn't.

"Bad move," James said, "Bad, bad move." Sirius just closed his eyes and signed out his nose in obvious distress.

"That's him, it's him, it's the real one!" cried one of the cloaked figures in glee. They fell back from the chase now.

The Death Eaters vanished and Harry looked thoroughly spooked. "Hagrid, do the dragon-fire thing again, let's get out of here!"

"Hold on tight, then, Harry!" They shot through the air once more. "I think we've lost 'em Harry, I think we've done it!" yelled Hagrid after a moment. Harry did not seem convinced. And shortly thereafter, the half-giant went on, "We're nearly there, Harry, we've nearly made it!"

The bike was losing altitude, but they truly did seem home free for the moment. And then Voldemort appeared.

Hagrid's yell of fear was the only signal he gave before plunging the bike into a vertical dive, which left poor Harry clinging to the back for dear life, firing stunning spells at random into the night. By sheer dumb luck, one actually made contact with a Death Eater and sent him tumbling down into the night below.

The bike's engine gave out then and Harry and Hagrid were sent spiraling uncontrolled through the air. "Merlin," James breathed as Lily grabbed his hand tightly with her free one and held fast, her wide eyes fixated on the scene in horror.

A hooded Death Eater on a broom appeared mere feet from the motorbike now. Harry looked directly at him, but the dark wizard had already lifted his arm, wand in hand—

And was then tackled in midair as Hagrid launched himself from the motorbike and at the dark wizard. "NO!" Harry cried after him, but he was gone.

Voldemort's high-pitched scream sounded then, _"Mine!"_ Harry glanced around frantically, searching for the owner of the voice, but Voldemort, behind and just below the young wizard's current location, was committed to the kill. His wand already raised at Harry's back, he opened his mouth in a cruel smile. " _Avada_ —"

Lily caught her breath. This was it. Sixteen years since that fateful night when Voldemort had first come, and Harry's time was finally up. There would be no war, no future for the Wizarding World. Everything he and his friends had learned about Tom Riddle's horcruxes would all be for naught. The prophecy would end tonight. Harry would die, she thought with tears in her eyes, but she would finally get to hold him again.

James instinctively wrapped an arm around her and held her close. Hedwig leaned close to her in a show of solidarity. He felt Sirius' hand on his own shoulder.

But Harry did not die. Voldemort never got the chance to finish the deadly incantation. As if controlled by magnets, Harry's wand suddenly came to life in his hand, whirling him around on the seat and meeting Voldemort's own wand with a spurt of golden fire. The flame quickly overtook the whole of the dark lord's wand and he had the sense to jerk—perhaps instinctively—away before his hand could be engulfed. The remaining Death Eater cried out and Voldemort screamed in rage and shock. _"No!"_

All three onlookers gaped.

And then the bike was shooting forward again, straight toward the ground. Harry gripped the handlebars with all he had, crying out all the while, "Hagrid!" There was no reply. "Hagrid— _Accio Hagrid_!" The fear was plain on his face as he stared down at the ground approaching at record speed. He clearly expected to plummet to his death.

Voldemort, meanwhile, appropriated the wand of another Death Eater and went after Harry again now. Green eyes met red as the dark wizard prepared to curse him once more…

Then Harry, on the falling motorbike, crossed the boundary to the Tonks' property and Voldemort, with all his lackeys, was powerless to follow. Hagrid lay prone on the ground directly below and Harry jerked frantically at the handlebars to avoid colliding with him. He crash-landed in a muddy pond mere feet away.

James and Lily held their breath and released it as one when their son's head broke the surface of the water seconds later. He struggled free of the debris, blood pouring from his mouth where he'd lost at least one tooth, and favoring one arm. He stumbled over to Hagrid's unconscious body. "Hagrid? Hagrid, talk to me—" he demanded, even as Ted Tonk's voice called out as he and his wife hurried to them.

Harry ignored them, his attention focused entirely on his friend and teacher, crouched above him. He was swaying now though, his speech becoming slurred. "Hagrid," he managed one last time before he collapsed half on top of the half-giant, unconscious and still.

The Tonks reached them seconds later. "Is it him?" Andromeda demanded, "Ted, is it Potter?"

"Has to be," Ted answered, shining his lit wand into Harry's face. His wet hair was plastered to his forehead, but the edge of his scar was just visible. The older wizard squinted down at it and then shook his head. "Has to be," he repeated.

"Well, let's get them inside," Andromeda said, "Help me, Ted."

James, Lily, and Sirius watched at the two levitated both Harry and Hagrid inside the house, though the latter's largeness required a good bit of maneuvering. Ted Tonks set Harry down on the sofa in the living room and set to work tending his injuries while Andromeda worked on Hagrid's.

Harry was quite battered, but he was in good hands. He was alive and he would be okay. Lily released a long breath as she let this information sink in and stroked a finger over Hedwig's feathers. She turned her eyes to the owl now and sighed lightly, feeling a pang in her chest as she thought of Harry's loss once more. She might not have been a fellow witch or wizard, but Hedwig had been such an important part of Harry's life, since the very beginning. She'd been the only friend he'd had during his long summers stuck at Privet Drive, and he loved her dearly.

Beside her, James released a breath of his own and Sirius piped up, "Merlin's Beard." He glanced between the two of them, "It's a wonder you two haven't lost the plot, watching everything that's happened with him his whole life."

"It hasn't been without some effort," James said. Lily snorted. James then looked over at Hedwig too. He lightly stroked her feathers himself. Lily could read his thoughts in his eyes.

Poor Harry.

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 **Thank you for reading!  
**


	32. Seventeen

**Hello! Sorry for the wait on this chapter - school has been crazy and I've needed to focus on that. However, I had some free time for once and managed to whip this up for you. It's not much, especially after over a month away, but I hope you enjoy it nonetheless.**

 **Thank you for all the support for this story. It truly means so much! Enjoy.**

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Harry's seventeenth birthday was probably the hardest James and Lily had faced beyond the Veil yet. Mostly because it was a brutal reminder. Harry was a man now; his childhood was over and they, his parents, had missed nearly all of it. The pain of this knowledge went unspoken between the two Potters, but it was still very much there.

However, they still smiled as one at Harry's adamancy in using magic for absolutely everything possible after realizing his Trace was gone for good. They watched in amusement as their son's unskilled wand set about creating far more work for himself than necessary as he sent Ron's belongings flying throughout the room and attempted to magically ready himself. He was not once dissuaded, despite the mess.

"You'd think someone who's dueled Voldemort himself would be a bit better at the little things," James observed dryly, watching with Lily as Harry untangled the rather large knot in his trainers, the result of his attempt to magically tie them.

She smirked. "Clearly domestic spells haven't been much of a priority."

Once Harry had finished entertaining himself and set the room to rights, he received his first present of the day from Ron, who advised him to open it upstairs and out of his mother's sight. Lily raised her eyebrows at this and James gave a small laugh, his curiosity piqued.

"A book?" Harry questioned, taking the parcel from his best friend, "Bit of a departure from tradition, isn't it?"

"This isn't your average book," Ron answered before launching into an explanation of the ingenious of _Twelve Fail-Safe Ways to Charm Witches._

Lily studied the scene with narrowed eyes. James, beside her, seemed unfazed, if not the slightest bit amused. She shook her head slightly. What a _man's_ gift! "Why do I feel like that's the sort of birthday present Sirius would give?"

James gave a laugh but it was Sirius himself, walking up behind them now, who answered her. "Because it is. If I thought Harry needed a self-help book to get a girl, that is. If anything, he could probably use the opposite." Lily snorted.

"There are worse problems to have," James reasoned. Lily rolled her eyes but smiled.

Harry had, by now, made his way down to the kitchen with Ron, where he was greeted with enthusiasm by the Burrow's current occupants, a pile of more presents atop the table. He was pointed to the topmost one by Molly Weasley, who, after it was opened to reveal a golden watch with stars around the face, explained the tradition of gifting a wizard a watch when he came of age. Lily was instantly fighting tears. Yet another thing she and James had missed out on with Harry, Molly and Arthur had provided for him. The thought shot a pang of guilt through her heart, even as she was infinitely grateful. Harry would never receive the watch that had belonged to his grandfather and bad been intended for him since his birth, but the one he received now was just as beautiful and surely meant nearly as much to their son.

"I'm afraid that one isn't new like Ron's," Molly explained anxiously, "It was actually my brother Fabian's and he wasn't terribly careful with his possessions, it's a bit dented on the back, but—"

Harry didn't allow her to finish before he had stood and wrapped his arms tightly around her. The Weasley matriarch looked surprised, and then pleased as she hugged him back. She patted his cheek when he released her and then turned back to the breakfast she cooked, not quite successful in her attempts to appear unruffled.

"Merlin, I love that woman," James said, a fond smile gracing his lips. Harry had gone without often in his life, but the Weasleys took every opportunity to make sure he had everything he needed, even while they didn't have much themselves. It was a debt the Potters would never be able to repay.

Hermione joined the group in the kitchen then and Harry continued on with the gift opening. He thanked the giver of each with a genuine smile and made his way through the pile, though he and his best friends did not linger long at the table once the Delacours piled in.

"I'll pack these for you," Hermione told Harry brightly, reaching to gather his new belongings from him at the bottom of the stairs while Sirius eyed the young witch with fondness. "I'm nearly done, I'm just waiting for the rest of your underpants to come out of the wash, Ron —"

Ron sputtered and as one the trio looking on from beyond the Veil burst into laughter. Lily did note the door that opened from the first-floor landing though and the mirth cut off quickly at the familiar voice that called, "Harry, will you come in here a moment?" Ginny.

"This should be good," Sirius grinned, an anticipatory gleam in his eye. Things between Harry and Ginny, while they were still more than cordial with each other, had not been near the level of comfort that had existed before that fantastic common room kiss. They seemed to avoid being alone together whenever possible. Lily, at least, found this a perfectly reasonable response. James, however, had grumbled about it on more than one occasion. He was convinced Ginny was perfect for their son and, frankly, he'd waited a long time to see that ship finally take sail. He understood Harry's intentions and respected him immensely for the mature decision he'd made regarding the girl he cared for, maybe even loved, but a small part of him couldn't help but wish things could have been different. It was clear, after all, that neither of the two's feelings had changed these past few months. However, he would wait to be proven right, when all of this was over, if only so he could brag about it to Lily later.

Ron froze in his spot on the stairs at his sister's summoning of his friend, but Hermione, just shy of openly grinning, took Harry by the elbow and all but hauled him further up the stairs to where Ginny waited.

Harry followed the youngest Weasley into her bedroom, where he looked around nervously, taking in the posters and knick-knacks scattered around. Hesitantly, he met her eyes as she looked up at him. "Happy seventeenth," she breathed.

"Yeah…" he replied awkwardly, "Thanks." Sirius snorted. Ginny's gaze was insistent as she looked up at him. Harry, however, seemed to be having trouble meeting it. He looked away and around the room again, his eyes landing on the window the overlooked the orchard behind the house. "Nice view," he offered.

" _Merlin,"_ James began in exasperation, while Sirius burst into pitying laughter. Lily, a hand on James' forearm, found it hard to refrain from smiling just the tiniest bit herself at the sheer awkwardness of her son in that moment.

"Adulthood hasn't made him any more eloquent," Sirius managed in between chuckles. James just shook his head, smirking now himself.

Ginny, for her part, ignored his comment entirely. "I couldn't think what to get you," she said instead.

"You didn't have to get me anything," was Harry's immediate reply.

She simply went on as if he hadn't spoken. "I didn't know what would be useful. Nothing too big, because you wouldn't be able to take it with you."

Harry hesitantly met her gaze. He looked rather a lot like a deer caught in headlights in that moment, completely unsure of how to act. Ginny, however, was fearless as she met his gaze and took a step closer to him.

"So then I thought," she went on, "I'd like you to have something to remember me by, you know, if you meet some veela when you're off doing whatever you're doing."

"I think dating opportunities are going to be pretty thin on the ground, to be honest," Harry informed her dryly.

"There's the silver lining I've been looking for," she whispered in reply and then closed the distance between them before Harry could do or say anything further.

If he was surprised when she kissed him deeply, he did a good job hiding it. He kissed her back with equal fervor, wrapping his arms around her. One hand was just beginning to tangle in her long hair and Lily was about to look away and chide the men beside her to do the same when the bedroom door banged open and the two jumped apart as if they'd been shocked. James winced in sympathy, though he couldn't say he was necessarily surprised.

"Oh. Sorry," a red-eared Ron said, sounding very much the opposite, a flustered Hermione behind him.

Harry studied the two of them. For an instant, he looked annoyed enough to send them right back out, but then his senses returned once more and he seemed instantly grateful to have been stopped when he was. He turned to look back at Ginny, merely to find her back turned to him. Only those looking on saw the tears—of both anger and disappointment—she'd failed to prevent from falling.

"I'll see you later," he muttered at her back and then allowed himself to be led out of her room. The pace downstairs was tension-filled. Poor Hermione, looking worried, followed after the young men as they walked out into the yard.

"Oh, not on his birthday," Lily found herself murmuring, fearing a falling-out was about to occur between the two friends, "Not now."

"Hermione's with them. She'll keep things civil," Sirius said in a mostly confident tone.

"This is stupid," James commented in mild annoyance, " _She_ encouraged _him._ What was the poor bloke supposed to do?" He genuinely liked Ron, he did, but…

Harry kept pace beside his best friend, ready for whatever verbal lashing he was about to receive, and stopped when he did upon reaching the lawn. "You ditched her," Ron said accusingly. "What are you doing now, messing her around?"

"I'm not messing her around," Harry offered just as Hermione reached them.

"Ron—" She broke off at the hand he raised to her.

"She was really cut up when you ended it—"

"So was I. You know why I stopped it, and it wasn't because I wanted to."

"Yeah, but you go snogging her now and she's just going to get her hopes up again—" Lily hated to admit it, but she couldn't deny Ron was probably right. She'd been a teenage girl with a crush once. She knew how it was.

Harry cut him off again. "She's not an idiot, she knows it can't happen, she's not expecting us to—to end up married, or—" Harry's parents could only hope for such a further for him, with Ginny, with _anyone._ Any future at all.

"If you keep groping her every chance you get—"

"It won't happen again," said Harry harshly, all traced of the light that had formerly shone in his eyes gone."Okay?"

Ron allowed a second's pause then, looking somewhere between resentful and embarrassed at the argument. He rocked back and forth on his feet. "Right then," he said, "well, that's… yeah."

"Okay," Harry replied with finality, before turning on his heel and walking back towards the house. Hermione's eyes held sympathy as he moved past her. He acknowledged it with the tiniest tightening of his lips as he walked by.

The rest of the day passed without incident. Charlie Weasley arrived shortly after the Ginny ordeal and Harry seemed grateful for the distraction. As his birthday dinner grew nearer, the Burrow descended into a somewhat organized chaos as everyone worked to prepare the garden for the party. Tables were erected, decorations hung, and a large, Snitch-shaped cake was presented to him by Molly. Guests arrived bearing smiles and more presents and Harry chatted and laughed amongst them all. For a moment, it was almost enough to make anyone forget the crippling fate that hung over his head.

James and Lily watched the events unfold with pleased, if only slightly sad, smiles. Harry was getting a proper birthday celebration for once, on this, his most important yet, and even if they could not be there with him, it was nice to see him enjoying himself.

Until Arthur Weasley arrived with the Minister of Magic, anyway.

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 **Thanks for reading!**

 **Next chapter: I wasn't originally planing to write the scene with Scrimgeour at Harry's party, but I was skimming the scene in the book while finishing up this update and it might have some potential. Thoughts?  
**


	33. Confrontation

**Hello!**

 **This update, admittedly, is kind of sad, but I enjoyed writing it. Mostly because I was appalled with Remus myself while reading this scene in the books, and even more so with Ron and Hermione after for not taking Harry's side. James and Lily's view of things would have been a bit different, I think. Anyway, here it is. Enjoy!**

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Lily, James, and Sirius listened in on the conversation currently taking place around the kitchen table of Grimmauld Place as Remus debriefed Harry and his friends of the increasingly worrying state of things at the Ministry of Magic. It was news to none of them, but they watched anyway, James struggling with mixed feelings of anger and understanding toward their misguided friend while Lily just watched Remus in disappointment, holding out hope that he would change his mind yet. Sirius, beside them, looked to be thinking along the same lines. For just as they knew what was happening at the Ministry, they knew what had transpired recently between Remus and Tonks, and the group as a whole was heartbroken at the conclusion the former had come to regarding the pregnancy. James found himself clenching his fists at his sides as he thought about it once more. What he wouldn't give to be able to speak to his friend for even a minute.

His Lycanthropy had always been an understandingly sore spot for Moony, and a source of never-ending heartache for him, but even bearing that in mind, Remus was being unreasonable. And James knew he and Sirius held the power to change his mind, to show him the error of his ways, if only they could only _speak_ to him. James had often felt helpless over the years, trapped beyond the Veil with nothing to do but watch as various events unfolded, but this was one of the worst. Moony was not and had never been the monster he so often thought himself to be, and any child would be beyond blessed to have him as a father. Becoming a parent had been the best thing that had ever happened to James, and here Remus was, so willing to throw it all away. If he hadn't known and loved his friend so well, he feared he would have been disgusted with him. His heart was breaking.

Remus was not a bad man. In fact, he was about as much the opposite as it were possible to be. He just desperately needed someone to remind him of that fact.

Before them, Remus continued his conversation with the young trio, ignorant of the turmoil his deceased friends currently suffered on his behalf. He explained the details of the new, albeit evil, efforts of the Ministry to weed out all Muggle-born witches and wizards and ensure 'purity' of the race—yet another enraging topic if James and Lily both allowed themselves to consider it long. Sirius had finished his own incensed rant on the subject just a few minutes ago.

In Grimmauld Place, Harry and his friends had grown increasingly pale as their mentor and friend went on. When he finished, Harry tried, and failed, to accurately articulate his thoughts. "It's… it's…"

"I know," Remus broke in softly, sparing him. He eyed the young Potter now, apparently hesitant to go on. Harry, knowing this, waited. "I'll understand if you can't confirm this, Harry," he started, "but the Order is under the impression that Dumbledore left you a mission."

"He did," Harry answered, "and Ron and Hermione are in on it and they're coming with me."

"Can you confide in me what the mission is?"

Harry looked instantly conflicted as he met Moony's eyes. "I can't, Remus, I'm sorry," he said after a pause, "If Dumbledore didn't tell you I don't think I can."

"I thought you'd say that," Remus replied, disappointment crossing his features, but went on. "But I might still be of some use to you. You know what I am and what I can do. I could come with you to provide protection. There would be no need to tell me exactly what you were up to."

"Any excuse to get away," Sirius muttered, dark eyes bright, "Come on, Remus. You're _better_ than that."

Harry, unaware of any ulterior motives on Remus' part, seemed to consider, though did not seem to reach any real conclusion before Hermione, astute as always, broke in, looking puzzled. "But what about Tonks?"

"Thank you," Lily breathed to no one in particular, glad the subject had been broached. If anyone stood a chance at changing Remus' mind, it was Harry.

"What about her?" Remus asked now, his voice even.

Hermione blinked and then frowned, clearly taken aback by this response. "Well, you're married! How does she feel about you going away with us?"

The three watching on were silent, waiting, as those in the kitchen did, for their friend's answer. Lily couldn't help but scowl at the one that came. "Tonks will be perfectly safe. She'll be at her parents' house." His voice wasn't quite so blasé anymore, however, as a hint of guilt broke through, subtle but very much there.

Either because of that hint or simply because they knew Remus' young wife was not one to sit idle and let others fight for her, the young wizards sitting with him did not look convinced. "Remus," Hermione said slowly, "is everything alright… you know… between you and—"

"Everything is fine, thank you," Remus broke in pointedly. She turned a bit pink. A short awkward silence hung over them before he added, slightly reluctantly, "Tonks is going to have a baby."

Hermione squealed, face instantly brightening. "Oh, how wonderful!"

"Excellent!" Ron put in.

"Congratulations," Harry added, smiling himself.

Remus' answering smile was closer to a grimace. "So…" he pressed, "do you accept my offer? Will three become four? I cannot believe that Dumbledore would have disapproved, he appointed me your Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, after all. And I must tell you that I believe that we are facing magic many of us have never encountered or imagined." Ron and Hermione both looked to Harry; the decision was his.

"Just—just to be clear," he began skeptically, "You want to leave Tonks at her parents' house and come away with us?"

"She'll be perfectly safe there, they'll look after her," said Remus in a tone that was shockingly close to indifference.

" _Remus_ ," an appalled Lily found herself saying. A reprimand for a friend that would go unheard.

James just shook his head, watching Remus sadly. And it was sad. More than it was infuriating, or ridiculous, or, frankly, even pathetic, it was very, very sad, this path Moony was choosing.

Before them, said friend pressed on, looking at James and Lily's son with hopeful eyes. "Harry, I'm sure James would have wanted me to stick with you." James found his eyebrows rising of their own accord. No, he most certainly would not. Not when the alternative was Remus' staying with his wife and unborn child.

"Well," said Harry slowly, as if weighing each word against the annoyance clearly bubbling up inside him. "I'm not. I'm pretty sure my father would have wanted to know why you aren't sticking with your own kid, actually."

Remus went instantly pale, while Ron and Hermione each gave very different reactions of surprise. Harry simply looked evenly at the man who he had once so looked up to. The entire room seemed to freeze as the two stared at each other.

"You don't understand," Remus concluded after a long silence.

"Explain, then," Harry demanded, betraying not a hint of sympathy.

Remus swallowed but rose to the challenge. "I—I made a grave mistake in marrying Tonks. I did it against my better judgment and I have regretted it very much ever since." Lily shook her head, hating herself a little for the amount of disgust she felt toward Remus in that moment. But as a mother herself, she couldn't, in good conscience, feel anything but what she did, and frankly she was proud that Harry, young as he was, seemed to be in agreement.

Harry, meanwhile, allowed a weighted second to pass before he spoke again, his voice colder than it maybe had ever been while directed at his former Defense professor. "I see. So you're just going to dump her and the kid and run off with us?"

Remus apparently lost control then and stood up so fast, he sent his chair toppling backward. He turned wild, glaring eyes on the trio.

"Don't you understand what I've done to my wife and my unborn child?" he demanded. "I should never have married her, I've made her an outcast!" He turned and violently kicked aside his overturned chair before he went on, growing increasingly frenzied. "You have only ever seen me amongst the Order, or under Dumbledore's protection at Hogwarts! You don't know how most of the Wizarding world sees creatures like me! When they know of my affliction, they can barely talk to me! Don't you see what I've done? Even her own family is disgusted by our marriage, what parents want their only daughter to marry a werewolf? And the child—the child—"

He broke off then and actually grabbed fistfuls of his hair. James, Lily, and Sirius just looked on in stunned horror; none of them had ever seen Remus like this. There were few times he'd looked more the werewolf he was.

"My kind don't usually breed!" he continued, "It will be like me, I am convinced of it—how can I forgive myself, when I knowingly risked passing on my own condition to an innocent child? And if, by some miracle, it is not like me, then it will be better off, a hundred times so, without a father of whom it must always be ashamed!"

"Remus!" Hermione broke in, her voice an appalled whisper, "Don't say that—how could any child be ashamed of you?"

"Oh, I don't know, Hermione," said Harry suddenly; rage shining in his green eyes. "I'd be pretty ashamed of him." He was on his feet now too, staring Remus down unflinchingly. "If the new regime thinks Muggle-borns are bad," Harry said, "what will they do to a half-werewolf whose father's in the Order? My father died trying to protect my mother and me, and you reckon he'd tell you to abandon your kid to go on an adventure with us?"

The disapproval was plain on every inch of him, the disappointment and hurt on behalf of the Lupins' unborn baby, from a wizard, barely more than a boy himself, who had lost everything Remus was now willingly tossing away.

Remus' eyes flashed, incensed. "How—how dare you? This is not about a desire for—for danger or personal glory—how dare you suggest such a—"

"I think you're feeling a bit of a daredevil," Harry went on remorselessly, "You fancy stepping into Sirius' shoes—"

"Harry, no!" Hermione begged, but Harry's glare did not falter. There was no trace of the lost and broken boy he'd once been; only a man, strengthened by his own experiences and wholly devout in his case.

"I'd never have believed this," he said coldly, "The man who taught me to fight dementors—a coward."

Remus, the git—for there was no other word for him in that moment, had the audacity to draw his wand and send Harry flying backward into the wall of the kitchen before the latter could react. And then he was gone, storming from the house and out the front door, seething and alone.

It was hard for the group to watch, but neither James nor Lily—and likely not Sirius either—could deny Harry had done anything other than what any of them would have. And he'd had every right to.

Ron and Hermione started in on him the moment he was on his feet again, still angry enough that his hands, clenched at his sides, shook with it. He did not yield his position to them though, and he was right. They did not understand and they did not need to. It had been a crude method, calling Remus out like that, but James held out the tiniest of hopes, maybe it had also been an effective one.

"Parents shouldn't leave their kids unless—unless they've got to," Harry said with finality, effectively ending the debate as he turned toward the fireplace. His friends exchanged weighty glances behind his back. Harry, obviously aware of this, turned back around in time to just catch them. "I know I shouldn't have called him a coward."

"No, you shouldn't," Ron said.

"But he's acting like one."

"All the same…" said Hermione.

"I know," Harry relented, "But if it makes him go back to Tonks, it'll be worth it, won't it?" No one answered, and Harry glanced down in the heavy silence that followed, seeming unsure himself for the first time.

But he was right. His parents knew as much, whether his friends did or not. Harry was maybe the only person left in the world who had stood a chance at getting through to Remus, and judging from the intensity of their friend's reaction, he may have done just that.

James and Lily nodded as one; approval Harry could not see. But they were proud, and one day, hopefully many, many years from now, they would let him know just how much.

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 **Thank you for reading and, if you don't mind, please leave a review and let me know you're still here.  
**


	34. Proud

**Hello!**

 **It's been so long and this update is far too short, but I wanted to get something posted for you before I went to bed tonight. I've been struggling for weeks to figure out how to write the Ministry scene, and in the end, this was the best I could come up with. I'm thinking future DH scenes will be easier, and with a few weeks off school I'll finally have some tie to work on them, so be looking out for those!**

 **In the meantime, enjoy this short little update I put together. Thank you so much for putting up with me!**

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Harry Potter had done a lot of dangerous things over the course of his too-short life, but infiltrating the Ministry of Magic while it was under the control of a maniacal dark wizard intent on taking over the world and who personally sought him out to kill him was near the top of the list. James thought so anyway as he watched Harry retrieve the tent from Hermione's bag while she circled their newly claimed camp, casting protective charm after protective charm. The last hour had been a whirlwind of excitement and nerves, and a somewhat large part of him still had trouble believing the trio of teenaged wizards had actually managed to pull off their barmy plan. Beyond that, they'd freed a few dozen Muggleborn witches and wizards, witches and wizards who likely would have faced death or worse without them.

It had been incredibly dangerous and had James still been alive and aging, living through the events of their Ministry break-in would surely have shaved years off his life, but as he watched the two make camp and continue to tend to Ron's Splinched arm, James couldn't find it in himself to feel anything but pride in his son's actions.

Once Hermione had erected the tent, she and Harry half-dragged Ron through its entrance, the latter clearing space as they went, and lowered their friend onto the waiting bed. Ron was, by this point, barely conscious with pain and in the silence that followed, Hermione assigned herself the task of making them all tea.

Harry waited for the drink in silence and accepted the cup from Hermione with a mute nod of thanks. He seemed to savor its warmth for a few moments, maybe allowing himself to relax for the first time.

The witch and wizards looking on from beyond the Veil had been nearly as quiet as the trio was now as they'd watched. In the resounding quiet, Sirius brought it upon himself to speak for the first time in many minutes. "I still can't believe they did that."

"Unfortunately, I believe it just fine," Lily added wryly, "I do find it hard to accept that they actually made it out again though." Sirius laughed. It sounded odd in the dense silence.

"They didn't really have much choice, I suppose," James reasoned, "They needed the locket."

Sirius nodded, smirking. "They literally stole it right out from under her nose." He shook his head and smiled wider. "Marauding at its finest. Merlin, I'm proud of them."

"They could have died, you know," Lily reminded him without any real venom.

"Well, sure. That's why I only brought it up _after_ the fact."

Lily rolled her eyes, but smiled. It was short-lived though. "Your house…"

Sirius shrugged. "Never liked it there anyway. It's just a shame the kids can't stay there anymore. My mother's house is a miserable place, but it's better than sleeping out in the woods in winter."

Lily grimly nodded her agreement and then sighed. "At least they have a fire, I suppose."

A brief silence fell. James broke it. "They did a lot of good in there," he said contemplatively, voicing his earlier thoughts, "All those Muggleborns." He shook his head. "They're heroes, the three of them. Those people would've likely died without them."

"Harry's too noble for his own good sometimes," Sirius agreed.

Ron spoke up then, interrupting any further discussion among them and breaking the silence that had prevailed for several minutes within the tent. Ironically, his line of thinking seemed very similar to the adults'.

"What d'you reckon happened to the Cattermoles?"

"With any luck, they'll have got away," Hermione replied, gripping her mug of tea tightly with both hands. "As long as Mr. Cattermole had his wits about him, he'll have transported Mrs. Cattermole by Side-Along-Apparition and they'll be fleeing the country right now with their children. That's what Harry told her to do."

And it had been sage advice indeed.

Ron spoke up again, worried about the family, fretting over their escape. "God, I hope they made it…" he finished, "If they both end up in Azkaban because of us…" He trailed off and did not seem to notice the downright affectionate expression Hermione wore as she watched his concern. Harry, however, did and appeared distinctly uncomfortable. James grinned in amusement.

Sirius snorted. "Those two really need to just snog already."

"So have you got it?" Harry asked now, somewhat abruptly and no doubt anxious for the awkward moment to pass.

Hermione started a bit at his words. "Got—got what?" Sirius laughed again.

Harry retorted quickly, a bit exasperated. "What did we just go through all that for? The locket! Where's the locket?"

" _You got it_?" Ron cried in surprise, raising himself up higher against his pillows. "No one tells me anything! Blimey, you could have mentioned it!"

"Well, we were running for our lives from the Death Eaters, weren't we?" Hermione asked reasonably. "Here." She fished the horrid necklace from the pocket of her robes and handed it to him.

The three studied the locket in morbid fascination, discussing, for a moment, the prospect of its authenticity and how to destroy it. It passed to Harry's hands as they spoke. He seemed unfazed initially, but a distinct revulsion crossed his face after a moment, maybe upon realizing just what he held in his hands. The thought didn't sit well with either of his parents.

"Our son is holding a piece of Voldemort's soul in his hands," Lily intoned to no one in particular, simply feeling the need to voice the distasteful thought. "Am I the only one who finds that _wrong_?"

"No," James said with conviction. Sirius simply shook his head.

Harry's hands set to attempting to open the locket, which Lily thought was a very bad idea indeed. He was far from successful, however, and both Ron and Hermione, each taking their turn at it, were proven the same. Eventually, the thing wound up back in Harry's hands again,

"What are we going to do with it?" Hermione asked of the wizards.

Harry answered, "Keep it safe till we work out how to destroy it." Then, though he clearly steeled himself to do it, he slipped the locket over his head and tucked it beneath his robes. That was that.

Lily repressed her shudder at the sight. "Merlin, that's awful," Sirius said, staring at the spot where the necklace vanished beneath his robes.

James hummed in agreement. "Here's hoping they figure out how to destroy it quickly. I don't want Harry—or any of them—anywhere near that thing longer than they have to be."

"They haven't got much choice, mate," Sirius reminded him. "And there's a lot more they still have to find."

"I know, Padfoot," he said without enthusiasm. Lily reached out and took his hand. He squeezed hers as he gripped it. It was a wretched mission Dumbledore had left for Harry, but a necessary one nonetheless. James wondered if he dared hope the three would succeed. He supposed they had to, just a bit. After all, Harry and his friends seemed to. There was surely nothing else that would drive them to continue on.

And though it tore relentlessly at his heart to consider all that still lay ahead for his young son, James was proud. Harry was doing what was right and good; and he was doing what was necessary. Not because it was easy or safe, but because it was his mission and his alone. It was his fate to embrace as he would, and Harry had done just that. Not only that, but he continued to help as many people as he could along the way, even if it was so little among a vast sea of pain and fear. He did it, and James knew his son would continue to do so until he no longer could. Because Harry was a good man and a great wizard, and James was so proud.

He prayed the day was long off when he would get to tell his son as much.

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 **Thanks for reading!  
**


	35. Godric's Hollow

**Hey guys!**

 **I know its been a while since I've updated for you guys. I've started another story which has been taking up some of my time, but I've so enjoyed writing it. Please feel free to check out Missing in Action if you haven't already. After you read this update, of course.**

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James and Lily watched in silence as Harry and Hermione appeared in Godric's Hollow under the Invisibility Cloak. Harry glanced around in wonder at the snow-covered town. An odd expression crossed his features, but vanished quickly as Hermione caught his attention, fretting about the snow and the tracks they would leave behind.

"Let's take off the Cloak," he decided rather easily. He seemed to expect the frightened look his friend turned on him at this. "Oh, come on," he said, "we don't look like us and there's no one around."

And so the two continued into the little town, disguised as they were like a middle-aged Muggle couple. Harry took notice of each and every house they passed, studying it as if hoping for some spark of recognition. "I'm not sure I want them to reach the cottage," Lily said quietly, her eyes on their son. She worried it would be unnecessarily hard for him. He had enough to worry about as it was.

James gripped her hand and sighed. She didn't elaborate, but she didn't have to. "He'll be okay," he answered sadly.

The two slowed when they reached the town square, taking in the strands of lights and decorations. From their distance, they clearly couldn't make out the war memorial in its center, obscured by magic. The sound of a carol drifted out of the small church and Hermione looked to her friend in realization. "Harry, I think it's Christmas Eve!"

"Is it?" Harry asked in wonder. James found it sad that they'd been so busy as to forget about Christmas of all things. Though who could really blame them, with the stress of it all?

"I'm sure it is," Hermione answered now, eyes once more on the little church. "They… they'll be in there, won't they? Your mum and dad? I can see the graveyard beyond it." A knot formed in Lily's stomach at the thought of Harry visiting hers and James' graves. Admittedly, she'd gone a long while believing he'd never get the opportunity. Now, she wasn't sure if she could stand it.

Harry flicked wide eyes to the shadowy cemetery behind the building, a flicker of apprehension crossing his face, even as something like excitement flared as well. Hermione reached for his hand in silent support and began pulling him forward. She, like his parents, clearly realized it was the only way he'd muster the strength to go.

Hermione, of course, noticed the statue before Harry did and, wide-eyed, pulled them both to a stop. "Harry, look!" she said, pointing.

Harry followed her gaze and started a bit, stepping away from her as he moved closer, staring into James and Lily's immortalized faces. He stood there for several minutes, examining the memorial, the faces of his parents; his own face, infantile and unmarred by a scar. Hermione stood back and looked between her friend and the statue, blinking back tears. She was so gentle, loving, and Lily was glad she was there with her son tonight. He needed her, especially with Ron still gone and the hole he'd left plain.

"C'mon," Harry said finally, stepping away. Together, they approached the little church. Both looked pained as they grew nearer. Lily guessed it had more to do with the memories the scene of holiday cheer aroused in the two than the setting itself, but neither spoke and they didn't stop. Hermione unlatched the kissing gate at the graveyard entrance and the two made their way through the snow toward the waiting tombstones.

They wandered through the empty cemetery, Harry going one way and Hermione the other, reading over the names and words engraved in each stone. Harry looked increasingly anxious. James hated to imagine the position he was in. Surely he both longed to and dreaded finding their graves. Hermione called out from a few rows away and Harry straightened as if shocked. He crossed hurriedly to her, even while he seemed hesitant. "Is it—"

"No, but look!" she said, pointing to the stone she was crouched in front of. He stooped down next to her, studying the gravestone depicting the names of Kendra and Ariana Dumbledore. He studied the names in silence, emotion flickering behind his eyes. Hermione studied her friend's shadowed, disguised face. Lily's heart broke further for her son, whose memories of his headmaster were now marred, possibly forever. He seemed ever so conflicted and she really couldn't blame him. What was he supposed to think? Albus Dumbledore had always meant well, had always loved him, but he had kept things from Harry; kept from him the mistakes of his younger years, mistakes he greatly regretted. Harry was young and had trusted him as he should have, but now that faith was being threatened and he had no one left to set his mind at ease.

"If I ever find myself face to face with that bloody Rita Skeeter," James said with quiet steel, "I may just have to throttle her and consequences be damned." Lily squeezed his hand. In that regard, they were certainly in agreement.

Hermione asked quietly now, "Are you sure he never mentioned—"

"No," Harry answered coolly, his face shuttered once more, "let's keep looking."

"Here!" Hermione called out again a few minutes later, "Oh no, sorry! I thought it said Potter." Harry only watched her from across the yard and started turning away again when she said, "Harry, come back a moment."

He looked displeased at being interrupted again but made his way over to her anyway. "What?"

"Look at this!" She pointed to the weathered headstone. "It's the mark in the book!"

"Yeah… it could be…" His tone was distracted.

Hermione pointed her lit wand at the stone. "It says Ig—Ignotus, I think…"

"I'm going to keep looking for my parents, all right?" Harry said in response, standing and leaving her crouched before the old grave. Hermione watched him go for a moment, understanding and sympathy crossing her features. She cast one more puzzled glance at the tombstone before her, and then rose and continued with him in the search.

They hunted for a long while, moving from stone to stone, one or the other stopping occasionally to study one with a familiar name before moving on again. They had, of course, started off quite far from where James and Lily's bodies had been buried, and the two watched from beyond the Veil as they gradually grew closer. Hermione seemed poised to discover theirs first.

"You'd think this sort of thing would get easier over time," James murmured, his eyes on Harry as he moved to yet another gravestone, still a few rows too far to the right. "Watching him endure all of this without us, _because_ of us. Because of Voldemort."

Lily nodded silent agreement, her green eyes sad. "Getting to watch over him like this is more of a curse than a blessing sometimes."

"But you aren't about to turn away."

"Of course not," she answered softly. Painful as it was, if she couldn't be there in person with her son, then watching over him from Beyond was the next best option. Always.

The graveyard remained empty save for the two teenagers, and they searched long enough that the church service finished behind them. Harry glanced up in surprise when the lights in the little building flicked off, scanning the place alertly before seeming to realize the cause of the darkness. His shoulders relaxed only slightly just as Hermione came to stand before the gravestone they'd been looking for. Her eyes widened a bit as she took in the name, a heavy sorrow falling over her. "Harry, they're here… right here," she managed.

Lily and James were silent as their son approached their final resting place, his posture too casual. He couldn't keep the emotion completely out of his eyes though. He seemed to struggle under an invisible weight as he took in the white tombstone, the names and dates written on it, the engraved words below them. This was what seemed to trip him up. He stared at the single line, and read it aloud. "'The last enemy that shall be destroyed is death'…" he trailed off, his eyes widening with sudden horror. "Isn't that a Death Eater idea? Why is it there?"

Hermione, bless her, was quick to talk him down. "It doesn't mean defeating death in the way the Death Eaters mean it, Harry," she assured him gently, "It means… you know… living beyond death. Living after death."

Her words seemed to break through whatever control Harry had over his emotions. His stoic mask fell away as his face crumbled and tears that he seemed helpless to prevent filled his eyes. He continued staring at his parents' names, allowing them to fall. Hermione took his hand once more and said nothing as the tears turned into outright sobs, which he struggled to reign in.

A broken sound escaped Lily as her own eyes filled, watching. James, breathing through his own sudden wave of emotion, only squeezed her hand. "It's not fair," Lily whispered, "Harry… he… he—"

"I know," he said gently, a single tear escaping and trailing down his own face. It _wasn't_ fair. Not a single day that had passed since that fateful night had been. Harry deserved so much better and James' heart ached at the thought.

Silently, her other hand still in Harry's, Hermione raised her wand and conjured a wreath of roses—Christmas roses—before them, an answer to some unspoken request. Harry released her hand to catch it and crouched to gently lay it on the grave. He remained there for a moment longer, studying the scene, satisfaction mixing with the sorrow now. And closure, which James wondered if Harry had even realized he'd needed prior to setting foot in the graveyard tonight.

When he straightened again, he was ready to go. He wrapped an arm around his friend's shoulders and she wrapped an answering arm around his waist. Together, they turned silently away and trudged through the snow, out of the graveyard and past the dark church. Neither said a word, but then, some things didn't require them. Lily knew this was one of those things.

She and James were quiet as well, watching them. Both felt it too; that closure. Nothing would ever be okay about the way they'd been forced to leave Harry behind, nor could anything forgive the tragedies he'd been forced to endure in the time since. But for now, they'd both ceased crying as well, and the silence that settled between them in their wake was benevolent. It was a healing silence, peaceful and full of a closure they, too, had been unaware they'd needed until they'd found it along with Harry tonight.

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	36. Dobby

**It's been forever, I know. I'm so sorry. Please enjoy this short little update. I promise I'll have another up soon.**

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Harry landed hard on the grassy dunes that made up the area outside Shell Cottage, gripping tightly the hand of Dobby the house elf with one hand and bearing the unconscious goblin with the other. The impact forced him to his knees and he, panting and wild-eyed, immediately released Dobby's hand to gently lower Griphook to the ground. "Oh no," Lily murmured, watching as the house elf stumbled, blood seeping from beneath the knife imbedded in his chest. James clenched his jaw. This was not good.

"Are you alright?" Harry quietly asked the goblin, receiving an unintelligible whimper in reply. Still oblivious to the seriousness of Dobby's situation, he looked up now to scan the area. "Dobby, is this Shell Cottage?" It was only when he received no reply from the house elf that he finally turned toward him. "DOBBY!" Dobby swayed now as he and Harry together studied the weapon in his chest. "Dobby—no—HELP! HELP!" He bellowed into the night.

Outside the cottage, Ron and Hermione had appeared with Dean and Luna. Bill and Fleur stepped out to meet them. Ron, with little concern for pleasantries, carried Hermione inside. Those remaining turned quickly at Harry's pained cry and rushed over. Harry, however, seemed neither to notice nor care as Dobby swayed again and pitched forward. He caught him and laid him gently on the grass. "Dobby, no, don't die, don't die—"

"Harry… Potter…" The house elf managed weakly, interrupting him. Then he was gone. And his last words had been Harry's own name, the name of the wizard he so loved.

"Dobby!" Harry cried brokenly, "Dobby… _Dobby_ …" His bottom lip trembled but he did not cry, only stared down at the little body. He was still repeating the elf's name when the others found him. They gathered around him in silence and after another moment, he noticed their presence. "Hermione?"

"Ron's taken her inside," Bill reassured him quickly, "She'll be alright."

Apparently satisfied with this news, Harry turned back to Dobby's body and swallowed hard as he studied it, pulling the knife from his chesk and draping his jacket over him like a blanket. He did not seem to notice the conversation that struck up around him. "Poor Dobby," said Luna sadly, tears filling her eyes. Dean quietly lifted the injured Griphook and carried him to the house. Fleur hurried after them.

"We should bury him," Bill murmured. Harry nodded vacantly.

"I can do it. Or you can. We'll find him a good spot. There's a spell—"

"I want to do it properly," Harry decided, speaking up now, "Not by magic." Slowly he tore his eyes away from Dobby's body to look at Bill. "Have you got a spade?" Bill studied the younger wizard for a second before nodding.

Lily brushed away her own tears as the oldest Weasley left for the tool shed while Harry remained with the body. Beside her, James sighed. Neither had quite been able to reconcile the night's events yet. It had been a blur for them—never mind how bad it must have been for the teenagers who'd actually lived through it.

Bill brought the spade for Harry and directed him to a space near the end of the garden before leaving him to it. A part of Lily wished he'd been a little more adamant about staying with her son, but she recognized the task Harry had assigned himself was one he needed to complete on his own. And complete it he did.

He dug furiously, clearly putting his feelings into the work, digging the elf a grave by hand. Even after his friends had been imprisoned and tortured, after they'd all very nearly died, even after everything because Dobby had been the reason they'd gotten away and because his life deserved as much recognition as anyone's. James and Lily watched him sadly. "I can't believe…" she murmured, unsure of whether she was speaking to James or herself. "Hermione…"

"I know," James replied quietly.

"He's _seventeen_ , James. Is nothing sacred?"

"Not with Voldemort, you know that. They're lucky to be alive."

She sighed. "I know."

He glanced at her and then wrapped his arms around her. "I want it all over with too," he told her gently, pulling her to his chest, "Believe me, I want nothing more."

"They can't run forever," she whimpered. "Eventually… He can't possibly win against him."

James sighed but could not exactly refute that. Prophecy or not, Harry couldn't possibly stand a chance. He just hoped it was quick when the time came, that Harry didn't suffer. And if he was honest, he looked forward to seeing his son again, to having him see and know _them_. It was terrible, he knew, and he felt guilty even thinking it, but it was there. And some things were worse than death.

Some time later, when dawn was not far off, Ron and Dean joined Harry outside in the garden. Lily was touched when they jumped down with him and helped with the digging effort until the grave was deep enough. Her son had had an awful life, all things considered, but no one could deny that he had good friends, and for that, she knew she'd forever be grateful.

She found herself crying again when it came time to place Dobby in the ground and the wizards took turns gifting him with articles of their clothing before being joined by the others. Lily kept her eyes on Harry throughout the impromptu memorial service Luna initiated. And she knew when he finished it off with a simple, "Good-bye, Dobby," it was because he could have not managed anything further even if he'd wanted to. His penance was in the grave marker he carefully carved out for him once the others had gone, and in the mournful look he cast toward the grave once more before turning for the cottage at last.

And she cried once more for her son, for her little boy who'd faced so much loss and who would apparently continue to do so, and for the world he was forced to grow up in. But she was thankful—Merlin, she was so thankful for the man he'd managed to become anyway, a man who loved so deeply in spite of everything, enough to be so profoundly affected by the loss of the lowly house elf he'd called a friend. And she was proud—so, so proud.

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